The Pursuit of Vengeance
by IfIWereANerd
Summary: Begins with an alternate ending to 2x16 and goes from there. Follows the main characters as they face one peril after another. Some wit and humor and suspense. Includes some Swanthief and Captain Swan, and Charming family fluff.
1. Prologue

Snow marched right up to Regina's front door. She felt a nervousness in her breath, but her resolve stood firm. She knew what she had to do, the price she had to pay for what she had done. Sure, she had been maddened by grief at the death of her childhood governess and the revelation of her mother's true killer so many years ago. Sure, she regretted her actions now, and she had tried to put it right. But that did not erase the fact that she had committed murder, and had set a grief-stricken, vengeful sorceress on this town. She knew she needed to take responsibility for her actions, however much she regretted them, before someone else got caught in the crossfire.

Snow raised her hand and took a stabilizing breath before she knocked firmly. When Regina opened the door, she froze at the sight of her nemesis.

"You," she whispered darkly.

"Regina, I came to tell you how much I regret what I did," Snow told her.

"You think that makes everything ok?" Regina asked. "You tricked me into killing my own mother!"

"I've come to take responsibility for my actions," Snow assured her. "You have every right to want to avenge your mother, but this feud between you and I… it's caused too much loss of life already. I'm here to end it, once and for all. I give you your vengeance, I give you my life in return for your mother's, and this hurtful, harmful feud can finally come to an end."

Snow stood tall and prepared for the worst. At first, Regina only stared at the woman in front of her, her dark eyes seeming to hesitate. Then, she thrust her hand into Snow's chest, relishing the pained gasp that escaped her enemy's lips as she curled her fingers around her pulsing heart. She did not tug the muscle out right away. She stood holding it in her grasp, applying a slight pressure that kept Snow's lips parted as she held her breath, waiting for the final blow, but it didn't come. She looked at Regina, her eyes wide and confused. Regina pulled her a bit closer, nearly across the threshold of her front door so that she could whisper menacingly in her ear.

"I could kill you right now, Snow," she sneered, and she felt a desire to do it pulse through her as she tightened her grasp and felt Snow stiffen. "Crush your heart to dust and watch your body crumple before me. You killed my mother, and I will have my vengeance."

Snow pressed her eyes shut and waited for Regina's parting words to be over.

"But killing you, that wouldn't be my vengeance, would it?" Regina asked in a quiet, intimidating whisper. Snow opened her eyes and they found Regina's, wondering where she was going with this. "No, I wouldn't get my vengeance if I killed you. If death were the greatest punishment, then I would not be feeling this pain. This vast emptiness I've felt since her death. So you see, Snow, death isn't the ultimate suffering. And more than anything, I want to see you suffer."

Snow blinked, terrified at the rage and malice she saw in the dark eyes before her as she continued to feel Regina's fingernails digging into her heart.

"You killed my mother. You killed my family. So no, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to kill someone from your family."

Snow's jaw dropped, though she could not speak for the hold Regina had over her, holding her heart in the palm of her hand. Regina brought her lips close to Snow's ear, so that Snow felt the prickle of her breath as she spoke.

"Say goodbye to your daughter, Snow White," she whispered.

"N-!" Snow began to exclaim, a wide-eyed, protective fear pulsing through her, but in one swift motion, Regina yanked her heart from her chest and squeezed. Snow felt the void in her chest tighten as she gasped for breath until she fell slumped against the doorframe and slid out of consciousness. Regina loosened her grasp on Snow's heart and stood looking down at her unconscious pray, a vengeful smile sprouting on her lips.


	2. The Fire Escape

Charming's coffee mug tumbled from his grasp and shattered on the counter top, the warm brown liquid inside splattering across the tile. Charming reached instinctively for his chest, which had erupted suddenly in a tense pain. He leaned on the counter for support, his breathing heavy.

Both Emma and Neal had looked up at the commotion. Emma stood from where she sat at the kitchen table, and moved towards her father.

"David?" she asked, grabbing his arm to help support him in his weakened state. "What's the matter?"

"It's Snow," Charming muttered, his concerned eyes darting back and forth. "Something's happened to her. She's in trouble, I can feel it."

Emma raised her eyebrows and blinked. "You can feel a change in each other's well being through your hearts?" she asked skeptically. At this point, nothing should surprise her, she thought, but still it seemed so cliché.

"I've felt it before. When her heart stopped after she bit the apple, I could feel it was in danger, even though I was locked in a prison cell at the time. It's the same now."

"I thought Snow was upstairs in her room," Neal said from where he sat on the sofa. "Why don't you just go up and ask her what's wrong?"

Charming took the stairs two at a time, a concerned Emma on his heels, but when he threw open the door to their bedroom, it was empty. Charming ran to the open window as Emma surveyed the empty room in a dreadful and shocked silence.

"The fire escape's been lowered," Charming said, looking back at her. "Snow climbed out the window."

"Why?" Emma breathed fearfully. "We know Regina is after her, we know she wants her dead."

"I know Snow," Charming said, the hint of devastation in his voice. "She has felt an unbearable remorse for what she did ever since she sent Regina to place her mother's cursed heart inside her. I told her I knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself, and I was right. She wasn't. She's not."

"But she tried to stop it," Emma argued, almost pleading, although she was unsure with whom. "She tried to undo it."

"It doesn't matter to her," Charming said. "She is responsible for Cora's death, and that's all that will matter to her."

"But what does she have to gain by leaving here, where she's been protected by Gold's spell?"

Charming's eyes met his daughter's, unsure of how much to tell her about her mother's nature of guilt and sacrifice. He felt a strange need to lie to her, to protect her as she had done for Henry. But the woman before him was a grown woman, he reminded himself, and she deserved the whole truth.

"She thinks that if she can give Regina what she wants, she can save a lot of other helpless innocents from getting hurt in the crossfire."

"But what Regina wants its revenge," Emma said, slowly, pulling all of the information together. "What Regina wants is Mary Margaret's life."

Emma's eyes sought her father's, imploring him to deny the conclusion she was drawing in her mind. His soft, sad exhale did exactly the opposite, confirming her fears.

"She's going to sacrifice herself," Emma concluded, struggling to keep her voice from cracking.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Charming said, his voice a low rumble thick with fear and determination. He strode quickly and distractedly from the room, side stepping Emma and nearly sprinting out the door. Emma followed him down the stairs.

"Is she alright?" Neal asked, standing from the sofa.

"She's not there," Emma told him. "She climbed out the window."

"I'm going to find her," Charming said, fastening his holster to his belt and reaching for his jacket.

"Is she even still alive?" Emma asked, afraid of the answer. "If she's already made it to Regina's house, she doesn't stand a chance. Was that what you felt? Her death?"

"No, her heart still beats, I'm sure of it," Charming said as he donned his jacket, his frantic haste causing him to miss the arm several times before finally catching it and shimmying it on.

"The real question is, is it still in her chest?" Neal asked darkly from where he stood, now watching the pair from behind the kitchenette. Father and daughter froze at the notion and swiveled slowly to look at Neal, taking in what he said and realizing what it meant. "Maybe Regina took her heart but is keeping her alive for some reason. Maybe that's what you felt."

Charming's face nearly drained of all color, his breathing shallow and rapid as beads of stressful sweat wove their way from his temple down his face and neck. Without another word, he flung the door open.

"I'm coming with you," Emma called, shoving her boots on her feet and reaching for her own gun.

"No, Emma, it's too dangerous," Charming said, turning back from where he stood in the door frame. "I'm not losing both of you."

"You're not losing either of us," Emma said, checking her clip, surprised at the certainty she heard in her own voice as the promise came out. "But once we get Regina involved, our only chance is if we have magic on our side. I know I'm new to my powers, but I think I'm getting the hang of them and it's better than nothing."

"I could get my father to help us," Neal offered. "I know I forgave him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't owe me a life time of favors to make up for how he left me."

"I need you to stay here with Henry," Emma interrupted him. For a moment, the two locked eyes as they both recognized the significance of the request.

"Of course," he said, his voice stammering before it found its strength. "If you see my father, send him to come talk to me, but I won't leave this apartment. I'll make sure nothing happens to Henry."

"I'm trusting you to keep him safe," Emma said, her eyes full of meaning and a thunderous gravity. "Don't make me regret trusting you again. Not like the last time."

Charming looked from his daughter to Neal. For a brief moment, his anxiety over his wife subsided as he found himself vaguely curious to what they were referring. Another second and the fear was back, wracking his lungs as he remembered his wife was missing.

"I'll keep him safe, I promise," Neal swore. Emma cast a swift and sad glace down the hallway towards Henry's room, where she knew he was sleeping. Then she locked eyes with Neal one last time.

"Good luck," he bid her. She let a small smile of gratitude slip onto her face as she followed her father and closed the door behind her.


	3. You Will Watch

Snow opened her eyes slowly. At first, the vision in front of her was just a blur of dull light. She blinked, and it came into a clearer focus. Four strong, hard iron bars. She did not move, but swiveled her eyes and saw the bars extended in a row to either side. She blinked again, fighting a dull ache in the back of her head.

And then she remembered. She sat bolt upright as memories of the last moments before she lost consciousness trickled their way back into her mind. Regina's hand wrapped around her heart. Her threat on her daughter's life. The glimpse of something glowing red as she felt it sucked from her own body, and then darkness.

She found herself in a small cell in the corner of a larger room, much like the one at the sheriff's station. Except this room was clearly underground, as the only window was small and high at the top of the wall. Candles cast a rusty glow across the space and caused shadows to dance on the dark, earthen walls.

Instantly, as she blinked her dark surrounding into focus, her breath became tense and taught. She clawed at her chest with one hand, feeling the absence of her heart. She stood shakily and brushed the dust from the harsh floor on which she had been laid from her body.

"I wondered when you'd wake," came a cold voice from a dark corner of the room opposite her cell. Snow squinted into the darkness as Regina revealed herself, stepping into the candlelight.

Snow coughed some dank dust from her lungs.

"Where are we?" she croaked.

"The vault under my father's tomb," Regina said. "You didn't have a chance to explore all of it the last time you were here, I believe. I needed to find a special place for this." She patted a small ornate box she held at her side, and Snow felt a light thudding inside her chest as she did so. A faint red glow emanated from the box. "Congratulations, Snow. Your heart has now become my most treasured possession."

"Why?" Snow moved forward and took the bars of her cell in each of her hands.

"Why, what, my dear?"

"Why is it still beating?" Snow asked through gritted teeth. She had prepared herself for death, but this was a whole new form of torture she had not considered. A witch's threat on her daughter's life and a prison cell she could not escape to stop it. "I offered you my life in exchange for your mother's, which I took. Why haven't you killed me?"

"My, your memory is poor," Regina said, her mouth curling into a smile around the words as she advanced further into the room. "I want vengeance my mother. Killing you won't get me that vengeance. But killing your daughter will. An eye for an eye, Snow. A member of my family for a member of yours."

Snow swallowed hard and blinked back angry, frightened tears.

"And why am I here?" she asked, biting her lip to stop the tears from reaching the surface, afraid of the answer.

"Because you get to watch," Regina growled, enjoying as she watched the despair and dread seep into Snow's pale face. "You get to watch me rip out her heart, get to see it beating one last beat in the palm of my hand. Do you think it will be bruised? You and I both know Emma has such a wounded heart. Broken time and time again from the life you banished her to. I guess we will both find out. You can watch as I reach into her chest and relieve her of that wounded, broken heart, and crush it to dust while she breathes her last breath. You can look into her eyes as she dies and know there is nothing you can say to comfort her, nothing you can do to stop it."

"If you do this, Henry will never forgive you," Snow threatened, hoping Regina's love of her son would be her daughter's saving grace. It had proved to be in the past. Snow saw Regina's face fall, and thought for a moment she may have found the argument that would work.

"Unfortunately that ship has already sailed," she said sadly, seeming to speak to herself more than to Snow. "I gave up on Henry ever forgiving me long ago. I can't hope to gain his forgiveness." She looked up and her dark eyes pierced Snow as a determined rage slid onto her face. "I can only hope to gain justice."

"Emma's done nothing to you," Snow pleaded, although she knew that the more desperate she seemed, the more Regina's resolve to kill Emma would tighten.

"Just as my mother did nothing to you?"

"Your mother killed _my_ mother," Snow reminded her, a sharp anger bubbling inside her. The truth about her mother's murder was still fresh and raw, even though it had happened so long ago.

"I always pictured you as the forgiving type," Regina purred. "But now it's you who've set the standard, my dear, and if the penalty for crimes is death, I'm happy to deal that sentence to our little Ms. Swan. For breaking my curse. For stealing my son. For bringing about the ruin of everything I held dear."

"It was me who killed Cora, not Emma," Snow attempted, her knuckles whitening where they grasped the bars of her cell. "Punish me, not her."

"But don't you see?" Regina sneered, the wicked smile creeping still further up her face. "I am punishing you. I can think of no better way to truly punish someone than to make her watch her child die."

"I came to you to offer my own life as payment," Snow said, unable to keep maternal tears from creeping into her eyes. "I came to you to end this. We can end this right now, you and I. She doesn't need to be involved. You can end this right now. Just reach out and take it. Take my life for your mother's. Grieve and avenge her, and then everyone can move on."

Regina brought her face even with the bars of Snow's cell, grasping one in each hand and leaning forward.

"Emma will die," the queen promised in a whisper, passion piercing her words. "And you will watch."


	4. A Trap

"The house is empty," Emma informed them as she descended the staircase from the second floor, holstering her gun. "There's no one here."

"Snow was here, though," Red said from where she stood in the foyer, inhaling deeply. "I can smell her. The scent is recent. Definitely from sometime earlier today."

"So Snow turns up at Regina's house and then both of them disappear," Charming breathed, leaning against the pristine wall beside a large, framed mirror. "That can't be a good sign."

"Well at least she's still alive?" Emma asked, glancing questioningly at her father. She had been confirming what felt like every five minutes that her mother's heart was in fact still beating. Charming nodded to indicate that he could still in fact sense his true love's presence in this world.

"But for how much longer?" Charming begged the question.

"If she hasn't killed her by now, she must want her alive for some reason," Emma reasoned. She and her father shared a meaningful glance.

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?" Red asked.

"Maybe," Emma pondered. She didn't want to see her own thought process through. The look on her father's face was already devastating enough. Still, if they were going to find Mary Margaret, they would all need to be on the same page. "Unless the reason she's keeping her alive is that she feels she can get her vengeance some other way."

"How do you mean?" Charming asked her.

"Torture," Emma admitted hesitantly, sad to see Charming's face fall further into despair. "Enslaving her. Any number of options."

"We have to find her," Charming seethed desperately.

"We will," Emma assured him.

"Where?" Snow asked. "Do you want me to try and track them? Because the scent is strong, but hazy. I don't know if I could find a trail."

"I don't think that's necessary," Emma said. "Aside from her house, there is only one other place in this town I think Regina could be." She made eye contact with her father as they said the words together.

"Her vault."

The trio rushed to the graveyard, but once they stood outside the tomb, they paused, hesitant to enter.

"If Regina's here, she's probably waiting for us," Emma muttered, surveying the tombstone. "It could be a trap."

"I don't give a damn, she can have me," Charming said.

"We can't help Mary Margaret if we're captured ourselves," Emma said, casting her father a sideways glance, partially amused and partially concerned that his wife's disappearance had him in such an emotional state that it compromised his judgment. She turned to Red. "Can you smell them, Ruby?"

"I think so?" she said, inhaling deeply. "I can smell them both, but the scent is muffled, as if it's buried deep. And…" she turned to Emma, "I'm feeling an extremely strong instinct to dig."

"That's probably them, then," Emma scowled, turning back to face the tomb. "Right. David, you come in with me. Ruby, you stand guard. If you hear anything, or – sense – anything, that seems like trouble, don't come looking for us. Run as fast as you can and get Gold. Better bring Mother Superior too if you can find her. We might need all the magical back up we can get."

Charming covered Emma, his firearm cocked and loaded as she heaved her shoulder against Regina's father's tomb and slid it open, uncovering the staircase to the vault below. The pair shared a determined glance before Emma began the descent, holding a flashlight level with her gun, both outstretched in front of her.

The first room was empty. Emma marveled at the vast wall of beating red hearts that stood in front of her as Charming climbed down behind her.

"Are these all hearts of people in Storybrooke?" she breathed, stepping forward, her eyes darting from one pulsating box to another.

"I'm not sure," Charming said. "Regina was feared in many different lands. From what I've heard, she collected hearts from all over."

Emma felt a chill blow up from beside her and turned to face it, aiming her gun into the shadows at the end of the corridor. She and Charming advanced slowly together until they found themselves at the end of the room with a long hallway stretching in either direction to their left and right. They looked up one side, then the other, then turned to look at each other.

"You take right, I'll take left?" Emma suggested.

"Should we really be splitting up?" Charming asked, hesitating.

"If Regina is down here and we come up against her and her magic, I don't think it's going to matter if we've got one gun trained on her or two," Emma pointed out.

Charming grimaced his agreement with her assessment of the situation. "Call out if you run into trouble," he said as the two turned from each other and began down the opposing hallways. "I'll come and find you."

"Same goes for you," Emma replied.

Slowly the echo of her father's steps faded as Emma crept further from him down the dark, narrow corridor. She squinted in the flickering candle light of the chandeliers that lit the way, igniting in front of her as she progressed and extinguishing once she had passed so she couldn't see the way behind her. It was a dizzying display, until she found she could not tell how long she had been walking, or in what direction.

She was just about to turn around and retrace her steps back to the crypt for fear of having stumbled too far along the maze when she felt the wall change as she traced it beside her with her fingers. She felt still closer, pressing her weight into the wall and found herself tracing something circular with the palm of her hand. A door, she thought. She grabbed hold of the circle and twisted it clockwise until she heard a loud click and felt the entire door jostle in front of her. She pushed it forward. It weighed heavily, and she had to push again, this time bracing herself and leaning all of her weight into it. It swung open stiffly until it hit a point where it just seemed to fall back, and Emma stumbled into the room behind it, catching herself from falling by leaning on it's knob.

"Emma?!" came a scared whisper from the corner of the room. Emma looked up and saw her mother's face, white as a sheet, barred into her cell at the other end of the room.

"Mary Margaret!" Emma whispered, expressing relief and concern in the same breath. Without turning to close the door behind her, she rushed forward, attempting to make her harried footsteps as light as possible on the cold stone floor.

"What are you doing here?" Snow asked, and Emma couldn't help but notice a hint of disappointment in her voice. "You can't be here."

"David felt something go wrong and knew you were in trouble," Emma explained as she continued forward. "You've got quite a hold on his heart. When we checked your room, we saw you'd gone out the window. What were you thinking?"

"I was trying to end this blood feud between us," Snow whispered, anxious tears sprouting in her eyes as Emma began surveying the bars of the cell, feeling them with her hands. "But I failed, Emma, I had no idea she would go this far. She took my heart…"

Emma did not seem phased as she continued to trace the bars with her fingers, searching for points of weakness or leverage.

"Well, we'll just have to get it back from her," she said distractedly. "But first, we need to get you out of here, and then we'll get it back before she…"

"No, Emma, you don't understand," Snow interrupted, desperate for her to listen. "It was never about me, it's about you. She wants to kill you."

"I'd like to see her try," Emma hissed, testing the door from a certain angle and blowing a piece of her blonde hair off her face.

"No, you have to get out of here now," Snow pleaded, wrapping Emma's hands in her own around the bars of the cell.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," Emma insisted, her tone almost harsh, but Snow persisted.

"She wants her vengeance, and I thought it just meant me, because I killed her mother, but it meant you because I killed her family and now she wants to kill my family. She orchestrated all this, it's a…"

"…a trap," a dark voice from the doorway finished her sentence for her. Emma whipped around at the additional voice as Regina swung the door closed with a clang.

* * *

**For the record, I know some of this kind of makes Emma and Charming look like idiots. Why would you go down into an evil witch's cavern without so much as a semblance of a plan? Why would you then split up once in said cavern? But I wanted to keep the plot moving along, and honestly some times they do act a bit like idiots, even on the show. Like facing a showdown with two evil sorceresses and thinking that pointing three swords in their faces will do the trick.**

**Next up, we know what happened the first time someone tried to take Emma's heart. What will happen this time?**


	5. Change of Plans

"Honestly, Ms. Swan, you are so predictable," Regina jested in her deep voice, advancing further into the room. "At first I thought I'd have to find you myself, but when I saw you brought that wolf sniffing around in my mirror, I realized how silly I was. Of course you would come looking for her, all I had to do was wait. For someone who grew up with no family, you are surprisingly overprotective of them now that you've found them."

Emma reached instinctively for her gun and emptied her clip at Regina, but the queen deflected each bullet with ease until Emma felt the gun was empty. She tossed it to the ground and tried a different approach.

"I have magic, and I know how to use it now, just as well as you do," she threatened, hoping the fib would hold, but Regina only laughed, taking another step into the room.

"If that were true, you wouldn't have reached first for your gun," she said simply.

"Old habits die hard," Emma retorted, but Regina's only response was to take another step forward. Snow tensed.

"Stay away from her!" she growled, pressing herself against the bars and trying to sound intimidating, but really just sounding scared. "She didn't do anything, it was me."

It was nothing more than the argument she had used before, and Regina disregarded it as easily as she had the first time, advancing still closer with slow steady strides.

"You see, Ms. Swan, I made your mother here a little promise. A promise I intend to keep. I told her I would kill you. I told her she would watch as I ripped your heart from your body and crushed it like it was nothing."

Emma smirked. "You can try," she challenged, placing herself directly in front of Snow protectively. Snow stifled a whimper at the front Emma was able to put on as Regina advanced, now inches away.

"I can't imagine you've got much in there to crush," Regina taunted. "A child needs love to develop a functioning heart. I should know – I never got any, and look how I turned out. I did my research on you, Ms. Swan, when I adopted Henry. Sent back from your first home before the age of three. Nine homes in fifteen years, until you ran away from the system prematurely, isn't that correct?"

Emma pulled herself to her full height as Regina advanced still one step further, leaning in to whisper menacingly in her ear.

"Tell me, what was it that finally made you make a break for it? The way your foster mother's hand felt against her cheek as she hit you? Or the foster father who couldn't keep his hands off the pretty blonde teenager living under his roof?"

Emma held her breath as she heard the skeletons of her childhood retold, but Regina was not paying her any attention. She was watching Snow's reaction behind her shoulder as devastated tears rose to pool in her eyes and cascade down her cheeks. Regina smiled then at Snow before pulling herself back to face Emma again.

"Not a lot of room to learn to love in the foster system, is there, Ms. Swan? Or outside of it, either. That's a lesson you had to learn the hard way, though, wasn't it, when Neal knocked you up and sent you to jail for a crime he committed. After all of that heart break, I wonder if there will even be anything in there for me to crush." Her eyes flickered down to the left side of her chest before bouncing back up to meet her defiant eyes. "Let's find out, shall we?"

Regina thrust her hand into Emma's chest, causing her to gasp and tense as it closed around her heart. Emma was pressed backwards against the bars of the cell with the force of Regina's redemptive fury. Snow let out a cry as her mind flashed back involuntarily to beside lake Nostos, when she had watched the same thing happen before her eyes. But while then she had only known despair in those few moments, now Snow found herself clinging to a small ray of hope as remembered how those events had ended. Would the same thing happen again? Would Emma's heart prove strong enough to withstand?

Emma had felt the sensation before. A strange, tense pressure drawing her breath into short, tight spurts, but she was more familiar with it this time. She did not panic as Regina closed her grasp and attempted to tug, because she knew that it would not work. Just as it hadn't worked before. She felt a light tug within her, but her heart stayed stubbornly in her chest. Regina's eyes widened uncertainly as she felt the restraint. She looked up to meet Emma's.

"Your mother never told you what happened to her when she tried to take my heart, did she?" Emma whispered viciously. "Too busy plotting and scheming to play catch up? I'll give you a hint. It wasn't anything good."

Emma felt what had now become a slightly familiar pulse of magic emanate from inside her that cast Regina backwards, just as it had her mother in the Enchanted Forest the day she and Mary Margaret had returned. Only Regina seemed more braced for it, and she was only flung a yard backwards and able to keep her feet. As she stumbled from the force, Emma heard a jingle at her side and saw a flash of metal. In a stroke of magical instinct, she summoned the object, and the keys flew from Regina's belt into her hand.

Regina watched them slide from her possession as Emma caught them. She advanced with vicious eyes, her breathing still short from the strength of the pulse that had thrown her backwards. A white-hot spark of fire balled in the palm of her fist, but Emma was done playing magical games. This wasn't her, this wasn't what she did best. She knew what she did best.

Emma twisted herself around, supporting herself with the bars of Snow's cell, and dealt the queen a strong blow to the face with the heel of her boot. Regina stumbled to the ground, reeling, a line of dark blood sprouting from the corner of her lips and trickling down her chin.

Emma did not pause to watch or relish. She swung around and began to fumble with the keys, trying to find the one that fit the lock in the door of Snow's cell. She had not even attempted the first before Snow let out a cry of warning.

"Emma, look out!"

Emma spun just in time to dodge a fully-formed flaming ball of magic as Regina cast it towards her. It flew through the bars of Snow's cell, who backed away to avoid it.

Regina lunged forward, wrapping her fingers around Emma's throat, and squeezing tightly, but Emma had only to use the bars against her back as leverage and knee her in the gut to make her release them. She sputtered at bit as their hold slackened, and raised her hand to deal the queen another blow, but something caught hold of her wrist as she did and held it taught.

She looked up and saw the bars of the cell had come to life, expanding and shifting fluidly like iron snakes. One had grabbed hold of her wrist, and she felt another snatch her other hand, holding her back. She attempted to wrench her hands free, but the iron bars would not budge as she felt a third creep from behind her and wrap itself around her neck.

Somewhere behind her she heard Snow's pleading screams as her vision blurred from lack of oxygen. She was only just able to make out Regina's hazy form advancing one last time before she felt something hard collide painfully with the side of her head and everything went black.

Regina watched Emma's body slacken into unconsciousness from the blow she had dealt her with the butt of a candlestick she had summoned from the wall. She let out a long breath and released the bars of the cell from her enchantment. They sprang back into place while Emma crumpled to the floor outside Snow's cell. Snow fell to her knees with her and placed her hands gingerly over her daughter's form on the ground.

For a moment, Regina was silent. She kept her narrow eyes on Emma's body, slack and folded below her. She crouched to examine her handiwork, and breathed a sigh of frustration.

"I suppose this requires a change of plans?" Regina said darkly, straightening and casting a disappointed glance at Emma's limp form. She waved her hand nonchalantly. The door to the cell adjacent to Snow's opened and Emma's body slipped from beneath her mother's hands, tossed unceremoniously inside. She remained unconscious as the door swung closed and locked of its own accord. "But then again, every failure is an opportunity in disguise, wouldn't you agree Snow?"

Snow eyed the queen through damp eyelashes as she felt her tears drying on her cheeks. She was frightened by the beginnings of a small smile she saw on her stepmother's face.

"Yes, this makes things much more interesting," Regina pondered quietly, her voice slick and silky. "Sure, I was unable to take her heart and crush it, but now that she's here, I can see endless possibilities stretched out before me."

Regina began to pace. Snow inched her hand as far as she could through the bars separating her cell from the one her daughter had been thrown in. Emma was just out of reach. Snow winced at the blood that trickled from her temple, and sought a small bit of solace in the light, albeit pained, rise and fall of her chest that meant she was at least still breathing.

"I can think of many games I can play with dear Emma here," Regina continued "Games that would make her wish I had been able to crush her heart. Or I could poison her and you could watch her die slowly and painfully in the cell next to yours. Would you like that, Snow?"

"What do you want?" Snow asked her, lips quivering as renewed tears spilled down her pale face. She was begging now, she knew it, but she felt so helpless when she realized that there wasn't anything else she could do. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. I'll give you anything, please, I'll do anything."

Regina continued to pace, as if she hadn't even heard Snow speak. Then she paused as if something were occurring to her. She swiveled her head slowly towards her step-daughter.

"Or," she started wickedly. With a subtle wave of her hand, Snow's heart appeared in her palm, red and pulsing. She gave it a nudge and Snow felt herself forced from where she knelt to her feet involuntarily. Regina's smile widened. "I could make you kill her yourself."

* * *

**Hello Readers,**

**I'm really happy so many people have taken an interest in this story! Your comments and requests for updates are really encouraging and motivate me to write more. I've already developed many more chapters in my head, now it's just a matter of finding the time to write them down. **

**I just wanted to let people know, though, that I'm currently living and working in Ghana. The four-hour time difference from the East Coast is why the updates come kind of early in the day and requests for more updates may go unanswered until the following day. At that point, I might already be asleep, or at least back at home, which only has power and internet about 50% of the time! **

**Up Next: The grown-ups may think they are being sly and sneaky, but it doesn't take much for Henry to notice that something is wrong. What will he do when he learns of his mother and grandmother's disappearance at the hands of his adoptive mother?**

**Happy Reading!**


	6. Her One Hope

Red started forward as she saw Charming's head emerge from underneath the tomb.

"Did you find anything?" she asked, rushing towards him and helping up the last of the stairs.

"Nothing," Charming admitted in a disappointed voice. He had ventured as far as he dared to go down the dark hallway to no avail, until he had feared he was already lost and turned back. He turned his head, looking around the tomb. He turned to Red. "Where's Emma?"

Red's eyes widened. "I thought she was with you."

"We separated," Charming explained, his pulse beginning to race. "What, she's not back yet?"

Red's wide, fearful eyes were all the answer he needed. His heart nearly stopped. He should never have agreed to separate from her. Now both his wife and daughter were missing. Again. He drew his gun from his holster and turned back towards the opening into the vault.

"I'm going after her," he said, but Red grabbed him by his upper arm.

"We can't just keep sending people after them only to have them also disappear," she warned.

"Something must have happened to her, I have to find them," he protested.

"We need help, David," Red insisted, stepping forward and preparing to body block him if need be. "We need to get Mr. Gold involved."

The suggestion triggered something Neal had said earlier this morning about his father. "I know how we can get Gold to help us," he said, turning sharply and striding from the tomb. Red followed at a trot.

* * *

Charming and Red entered the apartment just in time to see Henry slamming his knight down on a chessboard set up on the table, a huge grin on his face while his father threw his hands up in mock disappointment.

"Checkmate!" he exclaimed happily.

"Oh man, I was hoping you wouldn't see that," Neal complained, smiling. "You've got some skills in strategy, kid." His smile slid off his face at the sight of Charming and Red in the doorway, replaced by one of concern.

"How did it… go?" he asked, his eyes darting to Henry, implying that the boy knew nothing of the situation. Charming's eyes fell on Henry for a brief moment as well.

"Where's my mom?" Henry asked, popping up from his seat and peering around them. "Neal said she was with you guys."

"She got held up," Charming said, and while he was sure to make his tone a pleasant one, his continued eye contact with Neal implied there was something more to it. Neal's face fell. Charming turned to face Henry, pulling on his best smile. "She'll be back in a little while. In the mean time, Henry, why don't you go with Ruby down to Granny's. She has a special treat for you."

"Come on, kid," she said, also pulling on her best smile and reaching for Henry's hand. She shot Neal and Charming one final worried glance before following him out the door.

"What happened?" Neal asked, standing from his chair.

"We followed the trail to Regina's vault, but we got separated," Charming recounted. "Emma never made it out. I don't know what happened to her."

Charming caught Neal's panicking eyes pointedly.

"We need your father's help," he said. Neal nodded.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" he said, grabbing his jacket from beside the door.

* * *

"Just the way you like it," Granny said, smiling genuinely as she placed a warm mug of cocoa on the counter. Henry sat opposite it on the bar stool, his short legs dangling below him. He reached for the unorthodox cinnamon stick and began to stir the warm brown liquid and the frothy whipped cream on top.

"Thanks Granny," he said, smiling back.

"Anytime, kid," she winked.

"Henry, will you be alright here with Granny for a little while? I have to go… do something," she finished lamely, hoping the eleven-year-old would be too engrossed by his sweet drink to be curious about the vague explanation.

"Sure, Ruby," Henry said, taking a sip from his mug and emerging with a white mustache.

"We'll be fine," Granny assured her, nodding pointedly. "Go do what you need to do."

Henry waited until the chime of the bell at the top of the door died away before he chanced a glance out of the corner of his eyes. Out the large storefront window he saw Red meet up with Charming and Neal, the red streak in her hair flashing in the sunlight as she crossed the road. He saw them speak briefly and then continue down the sidewalk. He shifted slightly in his seat, hoping Granny would not notice where his attention was, and saw them enter Mr. Gold's pawn shop.

Henry waited a few moments, counting slowly in his head, before he swiveled his stool and hopped down from it.

"Where are you going, little man?" Granny asked him.

"I need to use the bathroom," Henry told her. Granny eyed him skeptically, hands on her hips.

"You've barely touched your hot chocolate," she challenged him.

"I'm not feeling so great," Henry said, placing a hand on his stomach. "I think it might be something I ate. I love my new dad and all, but his cooking isn't the best. He should really stick to buying me New York pizza, and we can leave the omelets to you."

Henry winked and smiled, and Granny smiled at the boy's cheek and aptitude for flattery.

"Alright, well don't take too long, or your cocoa will get cold."

"I won't," Henry promised, rushing towards the back of the diner. He made it all the way to the door of the bathroom and pressed his hand upon it as if to open it. Then he paused. He glanced back cautiously at the sliver of the diner he could still see around the bend in the hallway. Granny turned her back to him as she reached for a coffee pot, and Henry made his break. He continued down the hallway and out the backdoor into the rear parking lot. He checked the coast both ways before slinking down the alley and onto the main street, careful to stay on the edges of the road so as to not be detected through the windows of the diner. He skipped across the street and down the side alley beside the pawnshop, checking again in either direction as he came up to the back door at the side of the building. No one was around. He gently turned the knob as quietly as possible and slipped into the back of the store.

Henry heard the sound of muffled, concerned voices from where he emerged, hidden among the dark, dank shelving of the back storeroom. He drew closer, sure to keep himself well hidden, and the voices came into sharper focus.

"… seems our dear Snow has taken it upon herself to end the blood feud between her and Regina," came Mr. Gold's thick accent.

"Only because you convinced her in the first place to trade Cora's life for your own!" Charming countered, a tone of offense in his voice.

"Look, why she did it isn't the issue," Neal broke in. "What matters now is that she and Emma have both gone missing."

Henry felt his stomach lurch. He held is breath and pressed closer to the shelves, through which he could see the figures speaking, desperate for more news.

"We tracked them to Regina's vault under her father's grave, but Emma never came out," Red explained quickly.

"She must still be down there, then, right?" Neal asked.

"Regina wants revenge on Snow for her mother's death. Snow attempted to give her that vengeance by sacrificing herself," Gold summarized. "But if I know Regina, and I do, quite well, Snow's death won't be enough for her. She wants a different kind of vengeance. She is grieving the loss of a family member, and she will want Snow to feel that same pain. For Regina, vengeance won't mean killing Snow, it will mean…"

"… killing Emma?!" Red squeaked, finishing his sentence for him.

A soft sensation of dread wracked Henry's eleven-year-old body. Would his adoptive mother really do that to his birth mother? Henry thought back through the last few weeks with Emma. How he had given her the cold shoulder for lying to him. How he had continually pushed her away and made her feel guilty. He could see how much it hurt her, his accusations and jibes, even as he was saying them. He now regretted it very much. Had he seen his mother for the last time? And all he had given her was hostility.

The voices were still speaking, Charming's sounding outraged and Neal's sounding frightened and determined, but Henry did not hear their words. He was consumed by one overriding thought. He had to stop Regina. He had to stop his mother from killing his other mother. And, he realized with a short breath, he was probably the only person who could. He was her one hope.

Silent as a mouse, grateful for his tiny eleven-year-old footsteps as he shuffled across the floor, he exited the door he had entered. He pushed it quietly shut until he felt it latch. Then he pointed himself towards the graveyard and ran.


	7. Hairpin

When Emma opened her eyes, her concussed gaze fell unsteadily on her mother's form through the bars separating their two cells. Snow sat with her back against the earthen wall of her cell, her head slumped forward. Emma couldn't tell if she was dosing or crying. Her arm was extended through the bars, although it fell just short of Emma. She blinked, but that only amplified the pain searing inside her skull. A muffled groan escaped her lips, causing her mother to stir suddenly beside her.

"Emma!" Snow cooed, shifting onto her knees and pulling still closer to her daughter, reaching out for her. "Are you ok?"

"If by ok do you mean, do you have a searing headache from being whacked in the face by your son's adoptive mother, then yes, I'm ok," she joked, although a frown lingered on her face even as she jested.

Snow was concerned by the faintness of her daughter's voice as Emma propped herself up and slid herself gently towards her mother. It seemed to take her a great amount of effort just to shift herself slightly. Snow began to survey Emma's body for any other injuries.

"You lied to me," Emma accused in a quiet voice. Snow looked up from her examination of her body and into her daughter's eyes.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"You told me you'd never leave me again," Emma breathed, the effort of holding herself up and speaking through her concussion apparent in the strain in her voice. "That you'd always be there. But then I came in your room and you were gone. Just gone."

Snow pressed her lips together and blinked back a few tears.

"I was just trying to protect you," she sniffed. "To protect everyone."

"Yes, well, well done there," Emma muttered sarcastically, shifting her weight so that she could rest her aching head against the earth wall behind her. She closed her weary eyes took a few stabilizing, shallow breaths. Then she began searching her cell, gauging the situation. "Now, how are we going to get out of here?"

"Emma, she has my heart," Snow reminded her daughter.

"So first step is to get out of these cells," Emma said distractedly, scanning them with her eyes. "And second is to find it."

"No, you don't understand," Snow pushed. "She has control over me. She can make me do whatever she wants me to. She's going to make me kill you. You can't be around me, you can't trust anything I say to you, you need to get away from me as quickly as possible."

"If I can't trust anything you say, then why should I trust you when you tell me I need to get away from you," Emma reasoned good-humoredly.

"Emma, this isn't a game…" Snow started, but Emma turned to look her squarely in the face.

"Do you remember what you said to me at the bottom of that beanstalk?" Emma asked her.

"Emma…" Snow attempted to argue, but Emma persisted.

"You said, 'We go home together. That is the only way.'"

"This is different!" Snow hissed, but Emma grabbed her hands through the bars separating them and forced her to look into her eyes.

"That is the only way," she repeated. Snow sighed at the stubbornness she saw behind her daughter's eyes. Eyes that look so much like her father's. Emma held her mother's gaze until Snow acquiesced to nod.

"Right then," Emma said, blinking and summoning energy enough to stand. "Now, let's get these doors open, shall we?"

"But how?" Snow asked, rising with her daughter and supporting her by the arm as Emma swayed in her weakened state. She cast her a sideways glance. "Magic?"

Emma shook her head, but then stopped abruptly as it exploded in a fierce pain. She brought her hand to her skull until it subsided.

"No," she breathed. "I've had enough of magic for one day. I prefer to do things the old fashioned way. She plucked something from her hair. She brought it around to the outside of her cell and jammed it into the lock.

"A hairpin?" Snow asked, slightly amused. "Does that really work?"

"I had a foster family who used to lock me in my room when I made them mad or when they didn't feel like feeding me," Emma said through her own gritted teeth as she concentrated. "I got pretty good at picking locks."

"Oh, Emma," Snow sighed.

"Look, we can save the pity part for later," Emma said, biting down on her tongue as she jerked the pin. Snow heard a loud click and Emma's door began to creak open. Emma caught it before it made too much noise and slowly slid herself outside. She closed it as gently as possible, then began work on the lock to Snow's cell door.

"And for the record," she said, looking her mother in the eye as she worked. "I don't need you to protect me. I'm pretty good at protecting myself. What I need is for you to be there. Ok?"

Snow held Emma's pleading gaze for a moment, then nodded her understanding.

"Good," Emma said as the lock shifted and Snow's door loosened. Snow slipped out of it and Emma closed it lightly before turning towards the door.

"Emma, we have to do this quickly," Snow told her as she followed. "If Regina has my heart with her right now she can see everything we are doing."

The dark hallway seemed shorter on their return. Emma and Snow traced their way along the wall back towards the vault, the volume of their breath and the skidding sounds of their footsteps echoing in their ears. Emma was grateful for the space and light as she tipped her way into the main room of the vault, still aglow with the dozens of boxed hearts that lined the walls.

"How do we tell which one it is?" she whispered to Snow.

"She wouldn't keep it with all the others," Snow told her.

"Well, then, how are we going to find it?"

"Looking for this?" a low voice growled from the shadows.

Mother and daughter whirled around in unison to face the voice as Regina emerged from the darkness, hold a delicate red heart outstretched in her hand.


	8. A Hard Bargain

Emma blinked at the brunette's sudden appearance.

"You really just appear places, don't you?" Emma breathed, exasperated. Despite the dire situation in which she currently found herself, she could not help but think about how ridiculous this whole thing would have seemed only a year ago. "Like, poof."

"Poofing is just one of many remarkable things I am able to do, Ms. Swan," Regina sneered, squeezing the heart in her hand. Snow sucked in a crude breathe and lost her footing for the dizziness, buckling and leaning on Emma for support. "The list includes forcing your own mother to kill you right here, right now, as I was forced to kill mine."

"Good luck getting Henry to forgive you for that," Emma scoffed, hoping her confidence would work in her favor and not egg her enemy on.

"I lost any chance of Henry forgiving me when I teamed up with my mother," Regina said bitterly.

"Can you blame him?" Emma exclaimed. "The woman was pure evil, she literally had no heart."

"She had a heart!" Regina roared. "A heart that would be beating in her chest right now if it hadn't been cursed by her."

Regina squeezed Snow's heart still harder so that she gasped for breath.

"She regrets it!" Emma hurled at her, leaning to support more of Snow's weight as she sagged. "She regretted it enough to come to you and offer her life in return as payment. That's more remorse than you've ever shown for the many lives you've taken."

Regina loosened her hold on the heart in her hand and Snow gulped air back into her lungs, regaining her own posture. For a moment, Emma thought her frank reasoning had had some kind of hopeful effect, but one look at Regina's dark, raging face told her she was wrong. Regardless she did not have any time to react.

Involuntarily, Snow felt herself whirl around and pluck a sword leaning on the wall beside her. She gasped at the movement she could not stop as she felt her body betray her and point it at Emma. The entire room froze, Snow struggling to lower her weapon, but something outside her control kept her arm raised and taught. The two women looked at each other, eyes wide.

"Emma, run!" Snow begged, wishing with everything she had that Emma would leave her and flee the vault and not look back. Instead, Emma braced herself, a determined resolve setting into her expression as Regina cackled a malicious laugh.

"What do you say, ladies," she hissed, holding Snow's heart in front of her. "Shall we dance?"

Out of her control, Snow lunged forward with the blade of her sword, and Emma only dodged it just in time. She ducked and swung around, grabbing a sword of her own from the shelf and raising it protectively to catch Snow's blade as it came down again. There was the loud cry of metal on metal as Snow's sword came within inches of her daughter's face.

While Snow's face displayed nothing but fear and shame and disgust as she battled with the control Regina held over her, her body continued to slash expertly. Emma, a novice swordsman at best, was barely able to keep the advances at bay. She struggled to defend herself while simultaneously not putting Snow in danger, and as Regina forced Snow's viciousness to increase, it became a struggle she began to lose. She backed her way around the room, attempting to get some distance and a moment to breathe and devise some kind of strategy, but Snow's forced attack left little time for thought. Emma felt herself draining, her concussion pulsing in her head as her defenses began to slip. She felt Snow's blade nick her skin a few times and she hissed as she spun away, bringing her sword up to block the next swipe and trying to keep the pain out of her voice for the sake of her mother's desperate, guilty expression.

Emma's knowledge of swordplay may have been inferior, but her instincts were honed and sharp from years of self-protection in the system. As Snow lunged forward, nearly slicing the side of Emma's neck open, Emma's self-protective instincts kicked in. She dodged the blow and simultaneously grabbed a firm hold of her mother's wrist. In one swift movement, she had her pinned against the wall of hearts, red lights beating all around her, her sword at Snow's throat. Snow took in a sharp breath and Emma froze, terrified what she had almost done.

"That's one way this could end," Regina mused from behind them. "If you don't kill her, I will make her kill you. The choice is yours, Ms. Swan."

Snow's eyes were glossy and pleading. _Do it, _she mouthed, unable to add voice to the words, begging her daughter with every fiber of her being. But Emma released her grip on the hilt and the sword dropped to the ground with a clatter.

"Like I said," Regina sighed, "the choice is yours."

The queen flicked the heart in her hand, and Snow instantly stabbed her sword into Emma's gut. A pained, devastated cry escaped her lips as she did so, tears bubbling into her eyes as the blade slid through her daughter's flesh. Emma choked from the impact, her breath catching from the sudden pain and her eyes wide. Regina forced Snow to keep the blade inside for a long moment, during which Snow could do nothing save look into her daughter's eyes as she watched some of the light drift out of them.

Emma began to stumble, and Regina forced Snow to whip her daughter around so that her back was now to the wall. Emma slid slowly to the ground, her breathing shallow and unsteady as she clutched the wound at her side. Snow's blade came to her throat, its wielder crying in earnest at what she'd been forced to do. Again, Regina forced her to freeze. For a moment, the room hung in silence.

"Look at her, Snow," Regina purred as she paced closer to her stepdaughter. "Look at what you've done to your own flesh and blood."

Snow's body was visibly shaking, wracked with sobs, but she was forced to stand firm, her blade against her daughter's throat by Regina's control on her heart.

"She's dying," Regina sneered. "She bleeding out right in front of you. Oh, look at the pain she's in." A soft bubble of blood burst from Emma's lips as she gasped what breath she had left. "Should we let her lie there and die slowly and painfully?" Regina's grasp tautened and Snow's sword pressed further up against Emma's neck, forcing her to suck in her breath and raised her chin. "Or should we end her suffering?"

"Stop!" a small voice cried out and the three women in the vault turned their attention to its source. Emma's heart skipped a beat. Henry stood at the bottom of the staircase that led to the tomb above. His face was pale but determined as he looked from Emma to Snow to Regina. The entire room froze.

"Henry?" Emma whimpered. She sat up, the pain in her side dulled in the presence of her son in danger, but she felt the knife blade at her throat prick the skin as she spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"Henry, look away," Regina bid him, trying to keep the ferocity in her voice when really it was in danger of cracking. This was not what she wanted. She had not meant for him to see. Truth be told, she had been banishing him from her mind throughout the entirety of the events, keeping his sad, moral face at bay as she sought her vengeance in spite of how it would rip his life apart.

"Henry, get out of here, now!" Emma said in a panicked voice, making to rise, but Snow was forced to place a foot on her injured daughter to keep her down. Emma grunted in pain and another spurt of blood pierced from her lips.

"Mom, make her stop!" Henry said, darting forward until a flash of his adoptive mother's magic, swept him back so that he stumbled.

"I said look away, Henry," Regina hissed.

"You do NOT use magic on him!" Emma roared, rage surging through her and giving her a strength to stand, needing to protect her son. She barely made it to a standing position before Snow's blade bore down on her still closer, silent tears cascading down her face as she unsuccessfully attempted to fight the unbeatable force the propelled her actions.

"How much?" Henry's high-pitched voice asked desperately as he righted himself.

"How much what?" Regina asked, confused.

"Everything has a price, right?" Henry said. Emma swallowed hard. "That's what you always taught me. What's the price? How much for their lives to be spared? What do you want for them?"

"There's nothing left in this world that I want," Regina spat bitterly. "Nothing but revenge."

"That's not true," came Henry's voice, cracked and trembling, but strong as he pulled together every ounce of courage he could muster, preparing to make his bargain. "There's still something in this world you want."

"And what's that?" Regina challenged.

"Me."

The room hovered in a shocked silence in the wake of the bargain. Emma and Regina both regarded Henry, and even Snow's mouth parted slightly from where she stood with her sword at Emma's throat, unable to move.

"I'll make a deal with you," Henry offered.

"Henry," Emma whispered desperately, "no."

"You give Snow back her heart and let her and Emma live," Henry continued, "and I'll go with you. Anywhere. You can take me to any world you like, and I live there with you."

Regina stepped towards her son, and a flash of fear ripped through Emma.

"You stay away from him!" she threatened. In a burst of maternal instinct, she shoved her mother back from her and briefly averted the blade at her throat. With one flick of the heart in Regina's hand, Snow threw Emma backwards and pressed her up against the wall, wrapping the fingers of one hand around her neck and pressing the blade against it with the other.

"Stop!" Snow pleaded through her tears of disgust and guilt.

"What do you say?" Henry asked loudly over the commotion.

"I let them live, and you'll come with me," Regina said slowly, a dangerous desire in her voice. "Anywhere?"

Henry's eyes flickered to meet Emma's, and in them Emma saw his terrified resolve. It nearly broke her heart. Then he returned his gaze to his mother.

"Anywhere," he agreed. He stuck out his small hand and took a deep breath. "Do we have a deal?"

Regina took one final step, and she was next to her son. Emma saw her marveling at him, and a strong protective surge shot through her, but Snow caught her as she made to struggle her way free, her face distorted by devastation as her body betrayed her own blood. Regina glanced up at the pair of them, a genuine smile on her face. Then she looked back at her son, eyes swimming in happy tears.

"Deal," she confirmed.

Regina allowed Snow's heart to tumble from her palm to the ground as she took Henry's outstretched hand and shook. Emma felt her mother fall away from her, her self-control restored. Emma's first maternal instinct was to lunge for her son, to physically put herself between him and the woman about to take him away, but already a violet haze had begun to rise around the pair, still joined by their handshake. Instead she crumbled to the ground, and was blearily grateful that her loss of blood took her consciousness from her, for she could not have felt a pain any greater than as she watched the sad, apologetic but determined face of her son, who pierced her with a final, parting glance, evaporate from before her eyes in a puff of purple smoke.

* * *

**Damn. That was really sad. I planned it in my head, but I didn't realize how sad it was until I wrote it. The only solace I can offer is that this definitely isn't the end of the story. You and I both know Emma would do anything to protect her son. Stay tuned!**


	9. Unstoppable

Snow's eyes had not left Emma's face in what felt like hours. Sometimes, she found they had grown dry and red because she had forgotten to blink. Even with a tube down her throat to help her breathe, her baby girl was the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes on, and after having almost lost her in the tomb, Snow could not bring herself to wrench her from her sight.

But the battle for her life was not yet won. Sure, her throat was unsliced, thanks to Henry's devastating sacrifice, but she still would not breathe on her own. Snow listened to the whir of the machine as it pumped oxygen in and out of her lungs, and willed for some kind of change. It had been hours now.

"What's wrong with her?" Snow had asked Dr. Whale, when, not an hour after the end of the surgery the monitor had begun to beep rapidly and Snow had been swept from her daughter's side as Whale brought out the paddles. It took three violent shocks to return her heart beat to a safe rhythm. Snow had watched at the side of the room, her face half buried in her husband's chest as he wrapped his arms around her. "Did something go wrong in the surgery?"

"Everything went fine," Dr. Whale assured her. "I was able to repair the damage. There's no medical reason she shouldn't be breathing on her own."

"Then why isn't she?" Charming begged. "Could it be magic, like with Henry and the apple turnover? Could the blade have been laced with some kind of poison?"

"I doubt it. I would have seen something more supernatural if magic were involved," Whale replied. He bit his lip and glanced at Emma. "I've seen this before. Patients crashing even though they are medically sound."

"And what causes it?" Charming pressed. Whale looked at him and his wife, as if he was hesitant to tell the truth. Then he sighed and continued.

"A lack of will," he admitted, casting them an almost apologetic glance. "If a patient's spirit has lost the will to live, then there's not much the body can do to recover."

Snow's breath had caught in her throat as she shared a dreadful look with her husband. It was more than plausible that Emma's will to live was being tested, considering what had happened in the moments before she had collapsed.

"We're going to find him," Snow whispered now to her still daughter. "We're going to get him back. You can't give up."

Emma's chest rose and fell mechanically with the pattern of the machines. Her face showed no sign of recognition or change. Snow leaned in closer, warm tears trickling down the bridge of her nose and dripping from its tip.

"He needs you," she whispered shakily. "You're his mother. Henry needs his mother. You have to come through this. You can't give up."

Snow heard the sound of the door sliding open behind her. She sat up straighter, sniffling and wiping the tears from her face. She turned and saw her husband as he advanced towards her, a cup of coffee in each hand. He placed one of them on the table beside his wife at the head of his daughter's bed, then reached to rub Snow's back comfortingly.

"Any change?" he asked.

"No," she sniffed.

"She'll come around," Charming assured her. "She'll pull through, I know it. She's a fighter."

Snow swallowed hard, trying to keep her doubt at bay. She felt Charming's ginger touch on her cheek, swollen and stiff from the violent battle she had been forced wage with the woman lying unconscious before her. He turned to face her and crouched, concerned.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she insisted, but Charming kept his hand pressed gently up against her cheek, and for a moment she closed her eyes and allowed it to cup her face, sinking her wounded cheek into its support.

"I did this," Snow choked, her guilt overcoming her.

"Snow," Charming protested.

"I put her life in danger. I had to have my revenge, and now, she's lying here in a hospital bed without the will to live."

"She will come out of this," Charming insisted.

"She lost her son," Snow countered dramatically, turning to face him. "That boy meant everything to her, and now he's gone. She has no reason to want to come out of this."

Charming took both her hands in his and forced his wife to look him in the eye.

"You did not do this," Charming told her in a soft, warm voice. "Emma will come through this, and then together, we will find away to get Henry back."

Charming could see that he had not convinced her fully, but even still Snow was grateful for the reassurance, however fleeting. She cast a sad glance at her daughter lying in the hospital bed before standing from her chair.

"I need some air," she said off-handedly. Charming watched her go sadly before turning to his unconscious daughter and leaning closer. He took her hand in his.

"Please, Emma," he pleaded in a whisper. "You have to wake up."

* * *

Neal had spotted the empty seat in front of the cocoa mug before the bell of the diner door had finished ringing, and he instantly became anxious.

"Where's Henry?" he had asked Granny.

"He went to the bathroom," Granny told him as Charming and Red filed in behind him. She surveyed him over the tops of her spectacles. "Something about not feeling very well."

Neal had trotted down the hallway in the back and knocked gently on the bathroom door.

"Henry?" he asked. "Come on Henry, my eggs weren't _that_ bad."

When he pushed open the door and found the room empty, his face fell.

"He's not in the bathroom!" he said in a frantic voice as he came back into the diner.

"What?" Granny exclaimed, slamming the coffee pot down on the countertop.

"He's not there, it's empty," he repeated, struggling to choose which of his emotions to feel the most strongly – fear or anger.

"Where could he have gone?" Red asked.

Neal's face darkened as he wracked his brain. He was new to this whole father thing, but Henry was his son. If he were in his position, where would he have gone?

"Does Henry know where Regina's vault is?" he asked.

"Yes," Charming breathed dreadfully, thinking back to the time when Snow and Emma had been trapped in the Enchanted Forest and he had found Henry down there trying to find a way to get them back. "He's been there before."

"Then I know where he could have gone," Neal said darkly, catching his eye. The party flew out of the diner without another word, Neal in the lead progressing with storming strides. He had all but thrown himself down the stairs in the floor of the tomb, calling out in a panicked voice.

"Henry?!"

As soon as he skidded to a halt on the stone floor and saw the scene in front of him, the blood drained from his face. Snow knelt with an unconscious Emma in her arms, shaking her vigorously and calling her name hoarsely while a pool of dark blood spread around them. He advanced forward and was instantly on his knees beside the two women. Charming was two steps behind him.

"No!" he gasped at the sight of his wife cradling his daughter, covered in blood. He joined the group in one stride and knelt beside his wife. "Get an ambulance!" he bid Red, who turned from where she had just descended the stairs and sprinted up them again. Charming turned his attention back to his unconscious daughter, hovering his hands over her. "Emma?" he whispered.

"What happened?" Neal asked gruffly, taking Emma's hand, his eyes lingering on her wound.

"I did it!" Snow was sobbing. "She had my heart and she made me… and I couldn't…"

Charming pulled his wife to him and cradled her as her body writhed with silent sobs. Neal looked up at her.

"Henry?" he asked desperately. "Was he here, did he…?" Snow nodded, but that only made the uncertain knot in Neal's stomach tighten. "Where is he?"

"She took him," Snow stuttered through her sobs. "Regina. She was about to make me kill her and he flew in and said he would go with her if she let us live. She took him and they disappeared."

Neal's heart stopped at the news. He stared at Snow, then at Emma, his mouth open, disbelieving. But as the blood continued to spread around his fingers, he snapped his mind to the most pressing matter.

"We have to get her to a hospital," he said. He caught Charming's eye, who nodded, and the two of them helped to lift Emma's body into Neal's arms. Charming took Snow's hand as he made to follow Neal up the stairs, but halted when he felt Snow lag behind. He turned and saw that she was staring darkly at something on the ground. He followed her gaze. It was a heart, glowing red. He looked back and Snow, and she caught his eye, confirming its identity. He crouched slowly and gingerly took the heart in his hands.

Snow eyed the heart with a skepticism that bordered on disgust. She was afraid. If she was feeling this level of pain and fear with her heart outside her body, how much would its magnitude increase with it back insider her chest? She raised her glance and saw that Charming was watching her eyes, waiting for her to be ready. She took a deep breath, pressed her eyes shut, and nodded.

When he had pressed her heart back into her, all the pain and sorrow she was feeling, the guilt and the shame and the grief, had exploded inside her. She had no choice but to succumb to it until she had collapsed, unconscious, into her husband's arms.

* * *

It was nearly twenty-four hours and three code-blues more before Emma's body finally stopped waging its war against itself and she began to breathe on her own. Perhaps her subconscious was tired of them insistently bring her back with the electric paddles every time she decided to call it quits. In any event, it was a few more hours before she regained consciousness, and another hour still before Neal summoned up the courage to leave the waiting room chair he had been sitting in throughout the ordeal in a pained and guilt-ridden silence and face his son's mother.

He stood sheepishly in the doorway and watched her for a moment. She looked in pain. In all kinds of pain. He thought back to the happy-go-lucky girl he had met in that stolen car. He had so much to make up for. After a few moments, she spotted him. Her eyes cut him in a severe, accusatory way.

"I trusted you," she growled, pain etched in every crevasse of her voice.

"Emma, I'm…" Neal began, but she did not want to hear it.

"I trusted you to keep him safe!" she thundered. Neal sank into the chair next to her bed, his eyes as devastated as hers.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice shaking. "You disappeared in the tomb and I left him at Granny's for like two minutes to enlist my father's help, and when I came back he'd run off."

"He walked in on his adoptive mother about to force his grandmother to kill his birth mother," she spelled out for him. The guilt in his face deepened. "He had to bargain for our lives by promising to go with her. She took him. He's gone."

"And believe me, no one regrets it more than I d…"

"No one?" Emma challenged, her face torn and vicious. For a moment she seemed to struggle with her words, as if she couldn't find ones that quite fit her emotion. "You knew him for all of one week! He's my son, I gave birth to him. Held him in my arms right after he came into this world. Giving him up once was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And then he came and found me, and he was perfect. He was this perfect boy, and I told him I would protect him and…"

The rage in Emma's voice had melted into devastation as she completely lost her composure. What had been fury before now found itself tragic grief wrung from her in hot tears, which would not subside. Neal came forward and instantly wrapped her in his arms, and at first she thought she would shove him away. But she surprised herself when she didn't. It was all too much, and instead she sank into his embrace as the tears she could not stem began to flow.

"You should have seen his face," she panted, trying to catch her breath and rein her emotions back in. "And I couldn't do anything." He patted the back of her head.

"We will find him," Neal said. "I know it's been a while. I know we haven't seen each other in over ten years, and I know circumstances are very different now, but I know you. You don't give up. You get what you want. Do you remember how was used to be when we were together? We were unstoppable."

"We were thieves," Emma scoffed.

"We were unstoppable," Neal insisted. "Whatever happened between us, you can't deny that we made a great team. And now, it's personal. It's family."

Neal pulled away from the embrace and took Emma by the shoulders, looking deep into her moist eyes.

"I know you don't trust me, and I know you have no reason to," he said, his eyes completely genuine as he spoke. "But I promise you that we will not stop until Henry is away from Regina and back with his real family."

Emma wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to curl up and cuss and rock in a secluded ball until she forgot everything that had happened in the last few days. Everything that had happened in the last few years. Everything that had happened in her life. But as Neal held her gaze, somehow she felt herself nodding. Gently, he reached up to touch her cheek, then he pulled her to his chest again.

"So you get one day, ok? One day to rest and mourn and grieve and recover. And then, our work begins."

* * *

**Swanfire fans, you are welcome. Captain Swan fans, do not fret! I intend this to be a deeply involved tale with a fun, tense and witty love triangle, and a protective father added into the mix, as the story continues. (Swan Queen fans, I hope you find enough of interest in this story to forgive the fact that I can't make that one work right now.)**

**In the next installment, the planning begins as Emma, Neal, Snow, Charming, and just about everybody in Storybrooke teams up to find Henry and get him back to his birth parents. In addition, a forgotten character shows up in Storybrooke once more.  
**


	10. Strategy

"It's going to take a few more days."

Emma looked up sharply.

"What?"

Despite his size, Tiny faltered under her severe stare.

"The – the beans… they aren't ready yet. It's going to take a few more days."

For the past six months, a frown had never left Emma's face. When she was not one hundred percent focused on the elaborate scheme they were planning to win her son back, she was distant and distracted, haunted by the memory of him and the last time she had seen his face, however half-conscious she may have been at the time.

The people of Storybrooke were nothing but sympathetic. They too grieved the loss of the young, bouncing prince who had saved them all. His curiosity had nosed his way into every corner and crevasse of town life, so that they all felt his absence, and all felt for the woman who missed him the most.

Emma stood around a makeshift strategy table in the back of Gold's shop. She had been leaning over it, studying a crudely drawn map, when Tiny had interrupted her. Behind her, Neal stood leaning against the back wall. Snow sat beside her daughter, and Charming stood, clearing having been pacing. Emma leaned on her fists as her harsh glare bore into the giant.

"You said they'd be ready a week ago," she accused, her voice quiet but frustrated.

"I thought they would," Tiny offered in a small voice. "I'm not used to the farming conditions here. I didn't think they would need this long, but they are slow to grow. It's so cold."

Emma looked back down at the cluttered table, pressing her lips together to stifle a flare of disappointment.

"Of all places, why did she have to send everyone to Maine?" she muttered under her breath. Her eyes flitted at the spread of items laid out before her. A large sack of fairy dust stood in the center of the table – the dwarves had been mining day and night. Beside it stood a large top hat with a blue ribbon, which Emma had acquired from Jefferson when she visited his mansion for information. Gold's globe stood white and blank as ever. _If Henry and Regina were in this world, it would have shown where they were_, Gold had explained when Emma had pricked her finger and fed her blood to the orb to no avail. _She wouldn't have stayed, though. You don't need an orb to know that. She can't do magic in this world outside of Storybrooke. Magic is her power, so she wouldn't have gone anywhere that left her powerless._

That ruled out Transylvania, Whale had reported. His world and this one shared a lack of the supernatural in common. Emma, Snow and Charming had done a survey of the town to discover just how many possible worlds were represented, in order to understand how vast their search would need to be.

After their abduction a year before, Emma had had very little interest in involving Jefferson, but seeing as he seemed to be the only resident who had any familiarity with Wonderland, she had been forced to pay his large, dark, twisted mansion a visit.

"I don't know if that's the best idea," Snow had cautioned when Emma had confided her intentions to her parents. She cast a quick sideways glance at Charming before taking her daughter by the shoulder and sidling out of earshot, warning her in a pressing whisper, "remember what happened the last time we were there?"

Emma saw Charming eyeing them curiously and lowered her voice as she responded.

"Well, it did turn out that all the things he said that made us think he was mad were in fact true," she countered.

"That's no excuse for tying people up and holding them at gunpoint!" Snow insisted. "His thoughts may have been accurate, but that doesn't excuse the violence of his actions! He proved himself an extremely dangerous man."

"He was fighting to get his kid back," Emma argued. "He was passionate and desperate. I know the feeling." Emma and Snow's eyes locked for a moment. "And from what I understand, Henry is the reason Grace, or Paige, or whatever she goes by now, is back with him, so he owes him a large debt. Well, I'm cashing it in for him."

"What's the problem over here?" Charming had come barging into the conversation, his patience having run out.

"Nothing," Emma had said, holding her mother's gaze one final moment before exiting the store for Jefferson's house.

"What was all that about?" he asked his wife.

"We just… have a complicated history with Jefferson," she explained vaguely. "Emma and Mary Margaret do, that is." She turned back into the room and sidled towards the table, leaving Charming to brood in confusion over the vagueness of her explanation.

Jefferson had not invited Emma inside, but Emma would not have wanted to enter anyways. They had a brief and tense, though helpful conversation at the door, and Emma reported back to a full room in the back of Gold's shop.

"We can rule out Wonderland," she told them all. "Apparently Regina told Jefferson more than once how much she detested wonderland. What's more, apparently that's where she banished her mother to live right after she became queen and learned how to use her powers. Doesn't sound like a place she'd be desperate to go just days after her death."

"Right," Charming had said, crossing off 'Wonderland' on a list of possible destinations that sat on an easel in the corner of the room. The list had once included such fantasy realms as Middle Earth, Atlantis, and even Hogwarts.

"You know none of those are real, right," Neal had told her under raised eyebrows as he surveyed the list.

"How am I supposed to know?" Emma had asked, rounding on him. "The Cinderella's Kingdom is a real place, but I'm the crazy one for adding Hogwarts to the list?"

That just left the Enchanted Forest and Neverland. After nearly a week's worth of late nights debating and arguing which was more likely, neither had a strong enough case to rule it out.

"Regina knows the Enchanted Forest is the first place we'd look," Red had pointed out. "A perpetrator never returns to the scene of a crime."

"What's waiting for her in Neverland, though?" Emma had pondered. "Why up and move to a completely new land she has no ties to? Unless there is something we don't know about past with that land."

"Or there is another land we are missing," Neal added, a comment to which Emma shot a beleaguered look.

"Don't even start," she begged. After narrowing down the list of possible destinations she may have chosen, the last thing Emma wanted to do was add more to the pile. Choosing between two was difficult enough.

"Regina has extremely strong emotional and nostalgic ties to where she grew up," Snow contributed. "She would either want to return there to be in a familiar place, or she would want to avoid it at all costs, but I can't be certain which."

"That is supremely unhelpful," Emma had sighed.

In the end, after talking themselves in circles, they decided that the only way to do it would be to scour both lands.

"So, what, we go to one first and then the other?" Charming had asked.

"That will take too long," Emma said, standing to pace out her frustration. "Even if we can figure out a way to get to either one of these places, there's a whole lot of ground to cover. What, we just flip a coin to decide which one comes first and, if it's the wrong one we waste God knows how much time before we realize we were wrong?"

"We could search them simultaneously," Snow suggested quietly. Emma stopped her pacing.

"You mean split up?" she asked, intrigued and hesitant at the same time, taking her seat next to her mother and leaning forward.

"And how would we let each other know when we found Regina and Henry in one place or another?" Red asked. "How would we communicate?"

"The same way we did last time we found ourselves in separate realms," she said, looking apologetically at her husband as she said it. She took his hand.

"The fiery room," he confirmed, an unpleasant tone in his voice. Snow nodded.

"If one of us were to go to the Enchanted Forest, and the other to Neverland, we could bring poppy powder to induce a sleep that would allow us back into the netherworld brought on by the sleeping curse. We could schedule regular meetings for updates."

"I can't ask you guys to split up again," Emma said, leaning back in her chair. "You've spent too much time apart already, it's not…"

"You're not asking," Charming told her as continued to hold his wife's hand. He looked back at Snow, who smiled a small, sad smile. "We're offering."

"But what about…?"

"We would do anything for you and Henry, Emma," Snow said, shifting to look her squarely in the eye. "You know that, right?"

Emma was silent for a moment.

"I do, it's just… something I'm still getting used to, I guess."

So it was settled that Snow, Emma and Red would use the fairy dust on the Mad Hatter's hat to take them to the Enchanted Forest, while Charming and Neal would point the Jolly Roger towards the second star to the right and sail straight on 'til morning. Charming and Neal had cast each other an awkward, uncertain glance at the pairing, but considering Neal would have to go to Neverland, since he was the only one who had been there before, and Snow was the best equipped to go to the Enchanted Forest because she had the most intimate knowledge of the queen's past with that land, there wasn't much of a choice. Emma had reminded herself to have a chat with her father before they all departed to make sure he wasn't too rough on her ex-boyfriend while they were gone.

The only thing left was to find a way to get one party back to the other in whichever land they actually discovered the queen and Henry had fled too, and getting back home afterwards. And for that, they needed the beans.

Emma had hoped to have the beans in her hands by now, but Tiny's news crushed that wish. She took a stabilizing breath, trying not to count the days it had been since she had last seen her son. Every morning she woke and ticked off another day in her mental calendar. It had been nearly six months.

"We're scheduled to leave at the end of next week," Emma breathed, looking back up at a timid Tiny. "Will they be ready by then?"

"I think so," Tiny told her. "I can't be one hundred percent sure, but if they continue to grow at the rate they've been growing, then yes."

"Fine," Emma sighed. "Just let us know as soon as they are ready."

Tiny nodded his understanding and backed out of the room, ducking his head as he crouched through the door. As his hulking form waddled away, Mr. Gold stepped into the door frame.

"Are you ready to continue our lessons, Ms. Swan?" he asked in a snide, quiet voice.

The atmosphere in the room tensed as Emma looked up and caught Gold's eye. Emma had requested private lessons with Gold not long after she had been discharged from the hospital and the planning had begun. One of the conditions what that what they were doing during them remain secret. The concept had left everyone else curious, skeptical and concerned. When her parents had pushed the issue, Emma had explained vaguely, "I'm just learning what I need to know in order to defeat Regina once we find her," and left it at that.

Snow's glance bounced between Gold and her daughter. She did not like the arrangement. None of them did. She couldn't help but remember what had happened to the other people with a flare for magic that Gold had trained. Emma often came home from her sessions with Gold drained and moody, and the lessons had begun to last longer and longer. She did not like seeing her daughter so distraught, but she also knew that Emma was obdurate, and if she was set on learning something from Gold, then there was nothing she or anyone else could say to sway her.

"Yes," Emma responded, picking up the map in front of her and handing it back to Neal behind her without changing her glance. "In the meantime, please fix this. I can't make heads or tales of it."

"I told you I can't draw!" Neal protested in an exasperated voice, taking the map from her.

"Somebody help him, then," she said, striding around the table and towards where Gold stood waiting for her at the door. After it shut behind the two, a long silence followed, those remaining around the table staring after them.

"I don't like that," Charming said sourly, scowling.

"None of us do," Red agreed.

"I tried talking to her about it," Snow said. "She says she's only learning what she'll need to defeat Regina, and no more. She says that afterwards, she won't ever use magic again, that she has no interest in learning everything, just enough to see this through to the end and protect Henry. But I don't know. Everyone I've met who started with magic never learned how to stop. I don't want to lose her to it."

"We just have to trust her," Neal told them all.

"I trust her," Charming said. "It's him I don't trust. Two of his pupils have lived to destroy everything they love. He twists them until they don't know right from…"

Charming faltered as he remembered who he was talking to, and that person's relationship to Gold. The room hung in an awkward silence.

"Look, just because I forgave my father doesn't mean I'm his biggest fan," he assured them, breaking it. "But Emma's a grown woman and she can make her own choices. She's choosing to learn from Rump… I mean, Gold, and we have to trust that she knows what she's doing. Now, can someone please help me draw a map of Neverland that doesn't look like it was drawn by a two-year-old?"

"Perhaps the first step is to stop using crayons," Red suggested, and some of the tension left the room.

By the time night fell, Neal was the only one left in the room, harping over the map he had constructed in front of him and trying to make it as accurate as possible. He hadn't even noticed that it had gotten so dark until a flickering light from the front of the store caught his attention. He looked up at it, disconcerted.

"Emma?" he called out. "Dad?"

No answer came. Slowly, Neal stood from his seat. He could not help but notice each squeaky floor board as he sidled his way around the table and to the threshold of the doorway that led to the front of the shop. He surveyed it. It was silent and still, bathed in the dark of the evening that had fallen. Neal blinked. He took one step into the main shop.

"Do. Not. Move."

Before he could react to the sudden slick voice behind him, he felt the end of a small handgun pressed into his back. He froze immediately, not even daring to breathe.

"I swore I'd save my hook for that coward of an Imp, Rumpelstiltskin, but I have no quarrel with doing away with you by other means." Neal recognized the voice immediately as he raised his hands in front of him in plain sight.

"Now," Hook growled, "take me to my ship."


	11. Work Our Way Up

"Again," Emma persisted, beads of perspiration budding on her brow as she scowled in concentration.

"You've done it a dozen times now," Gold complained. He stood a few paces back, leaning on his cane in front of him. "Once is luck, twice is a habit, and twelve times is enough."

"I need to make sure I have it down," Emma persisted, facing the monstrous cow they had been using for practice and bracing herself for another attempt. She was panting slightly from the effort. "I don't want any surprises."

"You have it down," Gold assured her. "But it won't matter if you can't get close enough to Regina to use what you've practiced. You need to let me teach you more, other magic, to be able to face her."

"I don't want to learn other magic," Emma said through gritted teeth.

"You possess the most powerful magic I have ever encountered," Gold told her, stepping forward.

"You say that like it's a positive thing," Emma breathed. "But I grew up in a world without magic, thanks to you and that curse you created, and I have a very different view of it. All the people I know who can use and choose to use magic have been the villains. And you are not excluded from that group. This power – it makes people believe that the easy way is the right way. That they can always have what they want, all of the good and none of the bad. But it never works that way. I'm not going to fall foolishly into the magic trick. I've gotten along for twenty-eight years just fine without magic, and that's how I'm going to continue to live my life."

"That would be all well and good if the playing field were level," Gold persisted. "But your enemy doesn't see it that way. You can't hope to go up against Regina without at least knowing the basics…"

"I've gone up against Regina before…"

"And how did that turn out for you?" Gold sniggered. Emma looked sharply at him and he could tell her had hit a nerve. "Because last time I checked, Henry was with her, not you."

"Regina used magic to tear him away," Emma countered. "I'm not going to do that to him, too."

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'fight fire with fire'?"

"I'm not stooping to her level. I'm not playing by her rules. There is a right way to do this, and we are going to do it the right way. Involving any further magic than is absolutely necessary will only hurt Henry more."

"Then why learn this at all? How is this going to help?"

"This is the only way…" Emma mumbled, although she left the thought hanging, as if it were only meant for herself.

"The only way to what? What are you planning?" Gold prodded. Emma seemed in a haze for a moment more, than snapped her attention to her mentor.

"Look, heart-to-hearts were not a part of our arrangement," she admonished in a wary voice. "You said you'd teach me to do this. You don't get to ask questions."

Gold pierced Emma with a stony stare. She returned it and held the eye contact, not backing down.

"Again," she repeated, turning her attention to the cow again. Gold sighed.

"Concentrate," he purred. "Listen for the sound of the rhythm. Take a deep breath, and…"

Emma repeated the steps. She knew them by heart now. Which was kind of an ironic way of putting it. She thrust her hand forward and felt it absorbed by the cow's warm flesh. The beast let out a scared squeal, its eyes bulging. Emma felt her hand close around the pulsing object in the center, and she pulled. The next second, she was holding something large and glowing in her hand as it beat rhythmically. The cow stood perfectly still. Emma stood panting and held the heart in her hand for a moment, first looking at it, then into the cow's dilated eyes.

"Perfect," Gold praised in a low voice.

* * *

_Emma, _

_You can have Neal back as soon as you bring the crocodile to me. I'll be on my ship._

_Your move._

_Hook_

Emma merely stared at the note left on the table in the back of Gold's shop, reading it through a second time slightly amused while Gold paced, hobbling angrily around behind her.

"… that damned pirate!" he raged. "No one threatens my son! I'm going to…"

"Let's all just calm down," Emma said, rolling her eyes.

"Calm down?!" Gold nearly shouted, advancing on Emma. "The crook abducts my son, and you tell me to calm down?"

"Let's just stop bickering and figure out a way to get him back," Red said loudly, attempting to stem the heated conversation before Emma and Gold started throwing punches or magic instead of just angry words.

"I can get him back," Emma said vaguely, a slightly amused and slightly aggravated hint to her tone.

"No," Charming protested firmly. "Absolutely not. I don't want you anywhere near him."

Snow expressed her concern as well, although in a more mild manner.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?"

Emma was already shrugging her jacket onto her shoulders.

"He'll be civil with me," she said off-handedly, swinging her bag onto her arm.

"Civil is one word for it," Snow retorted, raising her eyebrows.

"We both know I can handle Hook, I've done it before," Emma said, turning to meet her mother's confrontational glare. Snow couldn't argue with that, so she just shrugged reluctantly and let the issue slide. Charming eyes narrowed in concern as they followed his daughter, who had pulled a lipstick tube out of her purse, as she shut the door behind her.

* * *

Hook sat twirling his pistol on a barrel on the deck of his ship, facing Neal. Neal sat at the bottom of the cage that had previously housed the giant, ironically named Tiny. He did not look particularly frightened, though every once in a while, he cast Hook a slightly bemused glance.

"What?" Hook prodded, his voice seeping with frustration at the constant glares.

"You really don't recognize me, do you?" Neal asked, leaning forward where he sat and squinting.

"You look vaguely familiar," Hook mused, standing from where he sat and taking a long hard look at Neal. "Have we met before?"

Neal laughed.

"You could say that. It's just, I've grown up a lot since then," he snickered. Hook tilted his head sideways, as if some memory were right on the tip of his consciousness, but when he heard the footsteps on the deck below, he became distracted and looked towards the dock. A smile spread across his face and he saw the blonde head appear on the staircase.

"Ah, here she comes. I knew she would," he flashed a wicked smile at his captive. Neal stood, his face falling as he saw Emma climbing on board. Hook turned back to receive her, and his smile faltered. "Where's the crocodile?"

"I didn't bring him," Emma said, coming forward in slow, intimidating, individual steps. Hook took a deep, furious breath and cocked his pistol towards Neal.

"My instructions were exceedingly clear," Hook growled, but Emma did not back down at the threat. She continued to pace forward slowly and confidently, each footstep echoing on the wooden hull below her.

"Yes, but see, I'm not really inclined to take instructions from you, Hook," Emma purred, her voice low and hard to read. With a click, Hook released the safety on the gun.

"I will kill him," Hook threatened. "I know you Emma, know how far you would go to make sure innocent people don't end up dead. Bring me the crocodile or I swear I will bury this bullet in his skull."

"No you won't," Emma informed him confidently, taking yet another step forward.

"Ah," Hook said with a smooth, slick voice, striding forward to meet her in the middle of the deck. "Come to trade something else for him?"

Neal squirmed a bit at the suggestion, his face displaying his awkward discomfort with the direction this was taking, but Emma maintained her intimidating and slightly seductive composure.

"Come over here and I'll tell you," Emma said suggestively, blinking her long eyelashes.

He smiled as he drew up right in front of her, then suddenly flicked his hook and held it at her throat. Neal took in a deep breath, but Emma remained steady, her eyes dark and suggestive as she looked into his.

"I might have fallen for that once before," Hook said, beginning to circle her in slow, intimidating steps, keeping his hook at her throat, "but I learned my lesson."

"You won't hurt him, because I now something about him that you don't know," Emma said in a low voice. "Something that you will want to know."

"And what's that?" Hook asked, coming around full circle to face her again.

Emma brought her lips up intimately to his ear, reaching out and placing a warm hand on his chest as she did so. From over his shoulder, she saw a flicker of discomfort and anger in Neal, but she ignored it as she whispered something he could not make out in Hook's ear. Neal didn't know what she might have said, for a moment Hook did not respond. When he did, he turned slowly to regard Neal, a strangely awed and conflicted expression on his face. He looked at Neal as if he were a completely different person, as if he were just seeing him for the first time. Neal had no idea what Emma had just said to him to elicit this reaction, but he decided the best course of action was to remain silent and let whatever Emma was planning pan out the way she wanted it to.

Hook turned back to catch Emma's eye. Neal saw her nod slightly, answering some unspoken plea for confirmation on his face. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he marched back to Neal, not meeting his eyes, jingling a set of keys until he found the one he needed. He slid it into the lock on the cage and threw the door open, turning to face away from both of them as he did so.

"Go," he said, again averting his eyes and Neal looked at him, semi-shocked. "Get out of here. Now."

Neal did not need to be told twice. He hurried towards Emma, rubbing his wrists.

"What did you say to him?" he asked her in a hushed voice, but she just waved him on.

"Go back to the pawn shop, I'll meet you there."

"You're not coming?" Neal asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I'll be right behind you," Emma said, shifting her gaze to Hook.

"But…"

"I'll be right behind you, I said," Emma insisted, peeling her eyes away from the pirate to catch Neal's with a stern gaze. Neal cast an uneasy look back at Hook, then looked back at Emma.

"Be careful," he warned her, and she smiled slightly at the genuine concern in his voice.

"Trust me," she smirked. "I can handle Hook."

Hook had gravitated distractedly over to the railing on the other side of the ship. He leaned out over it with a brooding character to his mood. As he made to descend onto the dock, Neal cast him one final, hesitant look, then stepped off the deck. As the sound of his footsteps hobbled down the wooden pier, Emma, turned back to Hook, coming forward and joining him as he looked out over the Maine sea.

"He's his son?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes," Emma confirmed simply.

"That means he's her son?"

"Yes," she repeated. Hook took a long thoughtful pause, first gazing out over the water, then looking down at the railing on which he was leaning.

"I don't know whether to hate him or love him," Hook voiced his confusion. Emma turned to him and placed a gentle hand on his arm, her voice smooth and understanding.

"I know you don't," she responded, blinking sympathetically.

Hook looked amused down at where Emma's hand rested on his arm.

"What's this, lass?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Does my brooding over my murdered love get you all hot and bothered? Have a finally found a way into that mistrusting heart of yours."

"I didn't realize it was my heart that you wanted to find a way into," she said, her voice just above a whisper. The wind from the ocean caught her golden hair, casting it about her face and shoulders and she took his eyes with hers. She leaned in closer. He smiled.

"Well, we can start somewhere lower, if you like," he said, turning to face her and weaving his remaining hand behind her to rest on her hip. "And work our way up."

He felt her respond, leaning towards him and exhaling a light and excited breath. He pressed his lips to hers and she did not resist. She met him in full force and they shared a kiss than started slow but then increased passionately. But it was barely a few moments before Hook felt himself become light-headed. He pulled away, but the sensation did not subside. He looked at Emma, who was looking at him with sad, sympathetic eyes. The kind of sympathy that meant she knew something he didn't. He stepped back, but his head was becoming clouded. He held onto the railing.

"What is…?" he mumbled blearily. His lips began to tingle and as he brought his hand up to them, he caught Emma's eyes again, watching him. A hint of understanding etched his way into his expression before he lost consciousness completely and crumpled to the deck.

Emma did not make to catch him. She stood for a moment, looking down at him, genuine sympathy sliding its way into her emotions. But she swept it aside quickly. She only had one mission. Only one person she needed to be thinking about right now, and Hook was not him. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed, bringing it to her ear. The other line answered.

"Piece of cake," she said.


	12. Bizarre Family Tree

Red held the tube of lipstick gingerly out in front of her, swiveling it to inspect it with wide eyes.

"This is BRILLIANT!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "Is it magic?"

"No, of course not," Emma scoffed. "It's just some kind of drug. I've been using it for years."

"So what, as soon as there's contact, they pass out?" Red prodded, fascinated.

"That's the gist of it, but sometimes it can take a few moments for the drug to get from the lips to numb the brain. Though usually at that point the blood is flowing pretty quickly, so…"

"Emma!" Snow scolded.

"How do you think I was such a successful bail bonds woman?" Emma shrugged, tossing her jacket onto her desk. "I learned pretty early that you gotta use what you got. Blame men for being sleazy enough for it to work every time."

"I don't think that's entirely fair," Neal protested. Emma rounded on him.

"Says the man who hit on me thirty seconds after I stole the already-stolen car he was sleeping in," she retorted. Neal tried to stifle a smile. He motioned towards his lip.

"You've still got a little…" he mumbled cheekily. Emma flushed deeply, her face furious and embarrassed as she turned away from him and wiped at the bottom of her lip.

"Well I had one thing right," Charming said, standing from where he had been seated behind Emma's desk, his face reddening with embarrassment and fatherly hormones as the conversation had worn on. "I did enjoy throwing his ass in jail."

The group collectively looked up to regard to the conscious pirate lying on the cot in the prison cell of the Sherriff's station.

"Tell me I get to do the questioning," he said greedily.

"Get in line, your highness," Mr. Gold sneered. "You're not the only one who has a qualm with Hook."

"I will be doing the questioning," Emma said firmly. "Anyone who has a problem with that can just sit quietly and remember how you all voted me to be the Sherriff. And I think when he does wake, it will be better if you're not here, Gold."

"Excuse you?" Gold blinked.

"You two can't be in the same room for five seconds with each other without trying to rip one another's heads off. I'm not going to get anything out of him while you're here."

"Need I remind you what he did to me?"

"Or what you did to him?" Emma countered, catching his eye. She could feel Neal's eyes narrow curiously at the cryptic conversation. The two held tense eye contact for a moment before Gold gave in.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll be at the hospital." He limped gruffly out of the station.

When Hook finally stirred, there was a wall of iron bars and a group of angry-faced people standing to meet him, watching him crossly with their arms folded. Hook's clouded mind scanned them until they landed on Emma, who was smirking.

"You bitch," Hook accused, standing unsteadily.

"Watch it!" Charming barked, striding forward and pointing an aggressive finger.

"Let him call me what he wants," Emma said, her smirk not faltering. "He's the one who fell for it. Twice."

"Where's my hook?" he asked, coming right up to the bars of the cell.

"You can have it back as soon as you answer a few questions," Emma said, picking it up from her desk and twirling it tauntingly. She placed it back down and walked around the desk. "Now, how did you get back to town?"

"I'm not telling you anything until you return my hook!" Hook thundered.

"I know you're a little new here," Emma said, stepping so that she was face to face with him through the bars, "so let me explain how things work in this world. I'm the Sherriff, you're the criminal, you are behind bars, and I get to ask the questions."

"Is this like a role-playing thing?" Hook cocked an eyebrow, looking her up and down. "A bit unorthodox, but hey, I'm always up for something new."

"Let me catch you up to speed on what you've missed as you've been what I can only assume is hitch-hiking back up here from that basement I locked you in in New York," Emma said, rolling her eyes and turning away from Hook, walking towards the deputy desk. "Cora's dead."

"What?" Hook whispered in vicious disbelief.

"I killed her," Snow confirmed darkly from where she stood farther back in the room, her arms crossed.

"I didn't think you had it in you, lass," Hook admitted, his eyes falling on her.

"Well, if you hadn't brought her here on your ship in the first place, I wouldn't have had to," Snow countered bitterly, her eyes narrowed in dislike.

"It's nice to hear you call it that," Hook said. "My ship. Good to get some clarification in the presence of two people who stole it from me," he gestured to Emma and Neal, "and left me in that massive concrete forest that everyone for some reason likes to compare to a large apple. Now, if you'd let me out of this sorry prison, I could exact my revenge on the crocodile and sail the Jolly Roger on my merry way, and you would never have to see me again."

"Can't do that," Emma said.

"And why the hell not?" Hook scowled.

"Because we need the Jolly Roger."

"You can't just hijack my ship!" Hook spat.

"Actually, given the circumstances," Emma said, gesturing to the bars that separated them, "yes, I can."

"What do you want a pirate ship for anyway?"

Emma frowned and took a steadying breath, turning away from Hook so she wouldn't see the vulnerability that crept into her face every time she thought about what happened.

"I need it to find my son," she breathed quickly, though no matter how quickly she said it, she could never avoid the pang she felt when she recounted the truth of the matter.

"Henry?" he asked in a breathy disbelief. The genuine concern in his voice shocked everyone in the room. Neal tilted his head curiously, surveying Hook's strange transformation into sympathy. Emma looked up at him from over her shoulder, her face showing her devastation. "What happened to him?"

Suddenly it felt like Emma and Hook were the only two people in the room, the other's just bystanders watching a movie. Emma blinked, a bit of shame flashing through her. She may not be able to trust Hook, but there was very little doubt in her mind that he did, for some strange reason, care about her. She would have found the concept completely confusing if she didn't feel something of the same way towards him.

"Regina abducted him," Snow explained.

"Where is he?" Hook asked, but again the question was entirely meant for Emma.

"If I knew that, do you think I'd be standing here talking to a pirate instead of out getting him back?!" she bit fiercely.

"Well if you don't know where, then why do you need my ship?" Hook pestered, trying to get some of his pirate anger back, but somehow he wasn't quite anger to muster up the rage he usually could. "You don't even have anyone to captain it."

"Yes we do," Emma said simply. Hook raised his eyebrows, caught of guard.

"Who?"

"Me," Neal offered, raising a hand slightly in a condescending wave. Hook looked at Neal, then back at Emma, eyebrows raised.

"Him?"

"How do you think we got it here from New York?" Emma asked him.

"You still don't recognize me, do you?" Neal said, standing, a large smile plastered on his face. Hook regarded him fully for a long moment, first looking him up and down and then peering more deeply at his face. Recognition dawned as he took a disbelieving step back.

"Pan?!" he said darkly. Neal's smile widened.

"Hello, Hook," he taunted. "It's been a while."

"You're Peter Pan?!" Red asked, also shocked.

"I'm a lot of people," Neal explained vaguely.

"Why is he even involved?" Hook asked, turning to Emma. "Why does he have anything to do with this?"

"I'm the kid's father," Neal said. Hook's jaw dropped. He stared at Neal for a brief moment before turning to Emma.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Hook said, a whole new shade of surprise and disgust flooding his face. "You and Peter?"

"It was a long time ago," Emma said defensively, blushing.

"You told me that this is the guy, that he is the reason you can't trust people," Hook accused, still speaking directly to Emma. "And now you are trusting him with my ship?"

"Hey, look I care about that kid," Neal started threateningly.

"Just like you cared enough about our dear Emma here to let her go to jail for a crime you committed?" Hook snarled.

"What?!" Charming thundered, shooting from his chair.

"There was a lot more to it than that!" Neal retorted, bearing down on Hook through the bars. Emma came forward and pried him back.

"So you did or did not skip town and land her pregnant in prison?" Hook challenged.

Neal tried to advance on Hook, despite the iron bars between them. In the background, Charming was lunging for Neal, but Snow, with the combined help of Red, was able to hold him back. Simultaneously, Emma slid herself between a grappling Hook and Neal and pried them apart.

"Can we be done reminiscing on my love life?" she seethed in a loud voice, and both of the men stared harshly at each other but deigned to remain silent. "Control him, please?" Emma bid Snow, nodding to a still-furious and red-faced Charming who seemed threads away from tackling Neal.

"Not so sure I should," Snow said darkly, narrowing her eyes in Neal's direction as well. Emma rolled her eyes, her patience thinning further.

"Look, this is not a gathering to discuss the horrible decisions Emma made in her past…" she said, referring to herself in the third person.

"Hey!" Neal exclaimed, but Emma rounded on him.

"Don't push it," she barked at him. He cast her an ashamed face. "This is about Henry." she turned back to speak pointedly through the bars to Hook. "But if he's Neal's son, then you know whose grandson he is?" Hook's scowl faltered as he put the pieces of this bizarre family tree together, the answer dawning on him. Emma watched the realization flush into his face. "This is personal," she said with meaning. "This is family. Now, you're either in, or you're out."

"Wait, what?" Charming and Neal said at the same time, turning sharply to look at Emma.

"Emma," Snow started, surprise etched into her face.

"You can't seriously trust him," Neal said to her.

"I don't trust anyone," she reminded him. "But while all five of us are familiar with the Enchanted Forest, so far only one of us has ever been to Neverland. I don't like those odds. We can use all the help we can get."

"And what makes you think I'll help you?"

"You want your ship back," Emma shrugged simply. She sidled over to the deputy's desk and picked up his hook. "You want this back." Hook's rage was apparent on his face and in his heaving breath she caught his eye through the bars of the cell. "Helping us is the price you'll pay. You can go with Neal and David to Neverland to help them look for Henry, and when I say help I mean help, not betray them or run off, or I can leave you in that cell until we get back and I have time to decide what to do with you."

Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably at the two options. Neal shot Charming a questioning look, but the glare he received back told him that Emma's father was not about to forget what he had heard about what he'd done to his daughter in a hurry.

"So think it over," Emma told Hook. "In the meantime, I have to go see a man about some beans." She made to exit the room, but when she got the doorway, Charming had caught up with her and gently grabbed her arm.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" he asked skeptically.

"I may not trust anyone, but I do trust this," Emma explained, stopping where she stood in the open doorway. She felt the room dissolve into a whole new kind of silence, intrigued for her response. She looked first at Charming, then Neal, then Hook as she spoke. "All of you care enough about Henry and dislike each other enough to keep one another in check."

She had to smile at the open-mouthed reactions she got.

"Have fun," she smirked, turning and closing the door behind her into a stunned, resistant silence.

* * *

**This turned out to be kind of a weird chapter. Oh well, hope you enjoy weird.**

**A chapter of almost pure fluff to follow! Snow/Emma, Snow/Charming and Emma/Neal. The night before they leave, everyone has some anxiety to vent.**


	13. Some Kind of Release

Emma sat curled up in a ball on the sofa of their apartment, her feet tucked beneath her, bent over Henry's book in her lap. Snow regarded her motherly as she stood in the kitchen, dipping a bag of tea into her mug of warm water. Emma always curled herself up when she sat on the couch. Snow wondered if it had something to do with having had to protect herself her entire life. She tried not to think too hard about it.

As she came back into the living room, she saw that while Emma was looking at the book, her eyes were completely stationary. She wasn't actually reading at all.

"Emma?" Snow prodded gently. Emma blinked as if she had been in a trance and looked up at her mother. She pulled on a tired smile. "What were you doing?"

"Just thinking," Emma said. "About tomorrow."

Snow sank into the sofa next to her daughter and slid the book from her lap, placing it on the coffee table.

"Maybe you should put all this stuff down," Snow said. "I think we have a pretty solid plan for now. You should really get some rest before we leave."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep," Emma said, shaking her head and bringing her knees up to her chest.

"We will find him," Snow assured her, but the comment did not seem to ease her daughter's mind.

"And then what?" she asked in a discouraged voice. Snow tilted her head confused. "We find him, and then what? Then we are right back to where we started. It still doesn't solve the problem that Regina is his mother and he loves her and she will never stop wanting revenge on you. Or me. I keep going over it in my head again and again, trying to find a way that Henry doesn't get hurt."

Emma broke off, her face showing deep concentration.

"You've given this some thought, haven't you?" Snow asked, placing her tea on the table in front of her, intrigued. Emma nodded. She looked up at her mother as if she were about to say something, then seemed to hesitate.

"I thought," she started finally, "if I could get close enough to take her heart, I would be able to control her and stop her from doing the terrible things she always does."

"That's what you've been learning with your lessons with Mr. Gold," Snow pieced together in slow breath. Emma nodded. "And what would you do with it once you have it? Crush it?"

"I couldn't do that to Henry," Emma said sadly. "If I did that, I'd be no better than her. She's his mother, she raised him, and no matter what she's done and who she is, she will always be a part of his family and he will always care about her."

"What, then?" Snow asked. "What would you do with her heart once you have it?"

Emma looked up uncertainly and caught her mother's eye. She looked very young and insecure, sitting there balled up, hugging her legs to herself. As if she was a young girl asking her mother's advice. Sometimes, Emma surprised Snow with how young she could appear. She fought well and cuffed criminals, and even seduced some of them, with a confidence beyond her years, but every once in a while she seemed to shrink into a tiny girl that never really grew up. That still needed her mother.

"I don't know," she conceded. "That's where I'm getting stuck. If I had her heart, I guess I could just keep it and control her. But I don't think that would be a good idea. I have so much anger towards her, for everything she's done to you and me and to Henry, I don't think I could remain above it all, remain civil. What if I succumb to the power and take advantage? Then again, Henry gets hurt. I just… can't see this ending well for him, one way or another."

Emma face was fraught with distress and confusion. It pained Snow to see her so nobly struggling to do the right thing. She couldn't imagine how she could have feared Emma would turn dark for learning magic. The woman who sat in front of her had such a strength of will. After what she had just done to Regina's mother, Snow found herself wondering where her daughter had gotten it from. She reached out and rubbed her back comfortingly.

"You will figure it out," she said. "I'm sure of it. You won't stop until you find the right way. And anyways, we've got quite a mountain to climb before we even get to that part."

Emma nodded slowly, still lost in her angst. After a pause, she unfolded herself from her ball and climbed off the sofa.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk," she said in a distracted tone. "Get some air. Clear my head."

Snow watched her sadly as she reached for her jacket beside the door.

"Well, don't stay out too late, young lady," she offered humorously, and was happy to see a small chuckle escape Emma's lips as she swung the door open. As it clicked shut behind her, Charming emerged from the back room, looking up expectantly at the sound.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"Emma is just going for a walk," Snow sighed, extracting herself from the couch and coming to stand by her husband. He opened his arms to receive her and she pressed herself into his strong chest. The couple stood there in silence for a long moment, Snow feeling the warmth of her husband's arms wrapped around her.

"I don't want to leave you," she finally admitted in a shy whisper. She felt his arms close around her even tighter.

"I know, me neither," he sighed, true pain in his voice. She broke from him enough to tilt her chin and look up into his eyes. They were moist and glossy. They bore deeply into hers, and behind courage in them she saw a fear. A fear that after everything they had gone through, no matter how many times they had found each other, that this might be the time they lose each other for good and all. But he blinked and he would not allow himself to believe that. "But you know that I will always find you, right?"

"I do," Snow sighed, and she desperately pressed her lips up to his. Their shared anxiety drew them into each other, their feigned confidence vanishing as their uncertainty and doubt encompassed them. All of their emotions, the good and the bad, the passion and the fear, swallowed them in a moment of intimacy. Snow felt herself sliding deeper and deeper into the kiss, pulling Charming with her, until their lips touching was not enough anymore. She felt his heated breath on her skin as he took her deeper into his embrace, one of his strong hands sliding down her back while the other reached up and buried itself passionately in her hair. She reached and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself still closer into him until he took a few steps back, her light form tumbling with him, and they both found themselves pressed up against the wall of the apartment.

Charming paused for a moment and breathed her in, looking down into her eyes that were desperate and hungry for some kind of release, some kind of certainty, some kind of life that didn't involve the stress they were living. Had been living for a year, for twenty-eight years, essentially since they had met. She looked back into him and they stood in a suspended, breathy silence before he leaned forward again, taking her mouth in his and devouring all of her grief. Everything melted away. Tomorrow would hold what it would, but they still had tonight and in this moment, that was all the time in the world.

Snow tugged passionately at the tie around her husband's neck until it loosened enough for her to slide it from his collar. She creaked the door behind her open, peering out it briefly while Charming buried his face in her neck. She smiled a guilty, sly grin as she dropped the tie to hang around the doorknob on the outside, per Emma's previous request. Then she turned to face her husband again, and their lips collided in renewed passion as she let the door swing shut.

* * *

Emma sat on the ground where Henry's castle had once stood. Her elbows rested on her knees as she faced the brisk breeze blowing off the coast. It softly blew her hair back from her face. The rhythmic sound of the waves in the distance tickled her mind pleasantly as she saw the sparks of the moon's reflection rise and fall with the tide.

She hadn't noticed that light tears had begun to slide down her cheeks as she lost herself in her thoughts until a soft voice spoke behind her.

"Mind if I join you?"

Emma glanced over her shoulder. Neal stood a few paces back, his hands dug into the pockets of a leather jacket. Emma shook her head, but did not say anything before she turned her attention back to the sea. She felt Neal settle himself beside her on the ground, mimicking her position.

At first, the pair sat in silence. Emma reluctantly admitted to herself that it was nice. She was glad he was here next to her. The one person who, regardless of how short a time he had known Henry, shared her innate pain in his absence.

"He'll be twelve tomorrow," she breathed finally.

"I didn't know that," Neal said. Emma nodded slowly.

"Twelve. Twelve years of his life, and I've barely been around for two of them."

Emma knew that her mother would have tried to comfort her by discounting what she said. By telling her that the amount of time didn't matter when it came to family, by reassuring her that Henry was and would always be her son and would always love her. But she found that she was quite grateful that Neal did not respond. He let her brood over her loss. His silence drew more thoughts out of her.

"This is where he convinced me to stay," she recalled. She did not turn to Neal, but spoke towards the water, as if she were speaking the words to herself. But Neal listened closely nonetheless. "I did it because I thought he was crazy then. I thought he was a lonely, crazy kid who wasn't getting enough help. But he was the one who was right all along, and I never believed him. Not once, until her was lying there dying in that hospital bed. It was almost too late."

"But it wasn't," Neal said soothingly. "And it's not now, either. We are going to find him. We are going to get him back."

"I should never have let him go," she said. Saying it felt like a huge weight being lifted from her chest.

"You had no choice, she was about to kill you," Neal said.

"No, not that time. The first time. I should never have given him up for adoption. I should never have left him." Emma felt warm tears fill her eyes as she swallowed hard, trying to keep them down. She had been trying to protect her son by giving him up, but all she had done was sent him to live with a monster. Was this the kind of doubt and guilt Mary Margaret was feeling about her decision to put Emma in the wardrobe?

"Shh," Neal cooed. "Everything you did, you did for him. And he knows that."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm sitting here right now in what is supposed to be our spot and he's not here," she sniffed. The cool breeze blew on the wet streaks on her cheeks, causing her to shiver a bit with the chill. Neal looked as if he were about to argue with her irrationality again, but then he thought better of it and just looked back out at the rolling water.

"No," he agreed, nodding his head sadly. "No, it doesn't."

Emma tilted her head to survey the starts in the sky above the ocean. They seemed cold and distant. They almost seemed to be mocking her, winking at her as if they knew something she didn't. As if they could see her son right now off in his other world while she was none the wiser to where he was. She squinted at the moon, looking for the second star to the right. She couldn't see it. The moon must outshine it. Either that or more likely she just didn't have the eye for it. She had spent her life building up her practical defenses and banishing any thought of magic or true love or happily ever afters from her mind. Now, she found herself engulfed in a world full of them, and she was struggling to keep her head above water.

"Do you think this is going to work?" she asked Neal.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "There's a whole lot of land to search." He turned to her. "I hope so. But even if it doesn't, then we will try again. And we won't stop. We won't stop until Henry is back with us."

Emma looked down at the ground and let out a small chuckle.

"Us," she repeated. The phrase felt odd on her lips.

"You know what I mean," Neal said, though he wasn't exactly sure himself.

"Sure," she said. There was an awkward silence, Neal brimming on the seat of saying something he had meant to say for a while, but hadn't found the right way to say. He took a breath.

"For the record," he started quietly. "I did love you. And I didn't want to leave you. I don't know if you can believe that…"

"I can," she said simply, though she continued to stare out at the water. "It wouldn't have worked, anyway," she said.

"Why's that?"

"Pure age difference," Emma said, with a straight face. Neal blinked. She turned to look at him, a humorous grin on her face. "You're hundreds of years older than me."

She and Neal both broke into a soft spurt of laughter at the same time.

"I guess your dad would not approve," Neal said.

"I don't think we'd even have to go that far to get to why he wouldn't approve," she chuckled. "We only have to go as far as 'he knocked me up and landed me in jail'."

Neal laughed along side her, but then his smile faded as he looked back out over the ocean.

"If I had known," he said, looking down at his hands, unable to face Emma as he said it. "If I had known that I had… that you were…"

Emma blinked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I know what it's like to be abandoned by your parents," he attempted a different approach to expressing what he was trying to say. "I never thought I'd ever have a son, but if I did, I never wanted to do that to him."

"We can't change what happened in the past," Emma said wisely. They sounded like words from someone else coming out of her mouth. "We can only choose what to do with the future. And choose not to repeat mistakes we made."

They looked at each other. Emma's eyes were glossy in the starlight.

"I gave him up once," she said. "I'm not going to make that mistake again."

* * *

**Ok, enough fluff. Let's get back into a faster plot pace, shall we? (Although don't worry, there will still be plenty of fluff mixed in). Emma, Snow and the others are only expecting the unexpected as they dive into their search. But even still, they never even considered running into an obstacle like this...  
**


	14. By the Water's Edge

"We're not getting any younger!" Hook hollered impatiently from on board his ship down to the couple parting on the deck. Snow and Charming were either ignoring him or they had not heard him.

"Give them some time," Emma admonished, coming beside him and looking over the edge of the railing. "What do you care, you're going to Neverland, it's not like you'll be in danger of running out of time."

"Putting it off won't change the fact that they're going separate ways," Hook griped. "Better to just get it over with, I'd say."

Emma couldn't help but agree with him. She looked down on her parents on the deck, gazing into each other's eyes as they whispered their last goodbyes, and realized that she could not even picture what that felt like. Maybe some very young version of her had believed in true love at some point, but she had given up on the idea so long ago that she now couldn't even pull one semblance of the concept back to understand what they must be experiencing in front of her. It made her strangely sad.

"Don't be rude," Neal said, pulling up beside Emma and leaning over the railing and around her to reprimand Hook.

"I will not suffer manners in etiquette from a thief, Pan," Hook bit.

"Better than a pirate," he retorted. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Oh, just whip them out, already," she grumbled, pulling away from the edge of the boat and leaving the two boys to squabble. Honestly, she would be glad to leave the bickering behind.

Before she had let Hook out of his cell, Gold had had a few words to say about it, barging into her office and striding straight up to where she sat leaning back in her chair, her feet on her desk.

"He's tried to kill me numerous times, he's rendered Belle memory-less," he recounted for her. "What makes you think you can trust him around my son?"

"You and I both know the answer to that question," Emma had responded in a quiet voice. She had cast a dark look at Neal, distracted trying to put the finishing touches on his map on the other side of the station, and had pulled Gold by the elbow into a corner of the room, speaking softly but sternly. "Does he know?" she asked.

"Know what?" Gold snarled.

"That the death Hook wants vengeance on you for is his own mother?"

The hesitant glance that Gold cast his son answered her question for her.

"Despite the fact that he hates you with every fiber of his being, he will never be able to hate or harm him, because he may be your son, but he's also hers," Emma explained, nodding towards a still oblivious Neal.

"He's a pirate," Gold spat. "Just because my wife happened to be his flavor of the week…"

"He loved her," Emma said with meaning. "Believe me – I've had my heart broken, I can tell. Now I don't know why Hook hasn't exposed what you did to his mother, but whatever the reason, I can only assume it is for Neal's sake, because lord knows he would never do anything for your benefit. But I wouldn't be surprised if that resolve wears thin. So unless you want him spilling all the skeletons in your closet to your son that he doesn't know yet, you don't get to complain."

Emma descended to the dock, stepping tentatively up to her parents, unsure if she was intruding. Her father's smile as he looked up at her assured her that she wasn't. She returned it.

"Try not to kill Neal while I'm gone," Emma said as they embraced. Though she felt a bit awkward about the whole thing, she knew it meant a lot to him as he held on one moment longer, squeezing a bit tighter. "Henry wouldn't appreciate you killing his father."

"I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises," Charming jested with a laugh that didn't quite meet his anxious eyes.

"And try and be civil with Hook," she implored him. She and her father simultaneously glanced up at the pirate, who had been watching Emma. When he saw them both looking at him, he gestured a motion implying the ticking of a clock to demonstrate his growing impatience. Charming's eyes darted between him and his daughter, uncomfortable with her lingering glance.

"That might be impossible," he huffed.

"You may need him," Emma said. He caught her father's eye until he finally nodded in reluctant agreement. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, making her blush. She was still very new to having parents, and while sometimes it made her the happiest she'd ever been, more often than not it just made her uncomfortable.

Charming gave his wife's hand one last squeeze as he boarded the ship. Emma saw her mother swallow hard as she stepped back and he climbed the stairs. While Emma and Red cast off the lines on either side, she just stood watching him, and he her from where he settled leaning out over the railing.

"You guys settle on a time for the first meeting?" Emma asked, joining her as the ship pulled away. Snow nodded.

"Three days from now," she said. She turned to face her daughter. "It will take them longer to get there than us, so with any luck we might even have some news for them by the time they are arrived."

Snow draped her arm around her daughter comfortingly and the two turned back to watch the ship floating farther away as Hook and Neal began to hoist the sails.

"Be nice, Hook," Emma called out as the ship drifted farther away.

"Will you punish me if I'm not," Hook asked with a wink. "Because that's not great motivation on my end, I'll warn you."

Emma rolled her eyes as she vaguely saw her father, growing smaller and smaller in the distance, aggressively make for Hook down the deck of the ship. But already they were too far away for her to make out the altercation.

"He's going to get himself bitch slapped at best," she sighed. Red came up beside them, the Mad Hatter's hat in one hand and the bag of fairy dust in the other.

"Are we ready?" she asked them.

"Yes," Emma confirmed, taking a deep breath and trying to sound more confident than she felt. She had been mostly on the run the last time she had been to the Enchanted Forest, and she knew it was her parent's home and everything but she hadn't exactly found it homey or welcoming. She still felt so far from finding her son. She had no idea where they would end up when they jumped through the portal, and once again she was diving into a land where she wasn't in her element. She didn't like the idea of having to rely on her mother and Red. She was so used to being self-reliant that putting herself in a position she did not know or understand well made her uncomfortable.

With all these doubts and uncertainties coursing through her mind, she pulled on the bravest face she could muster as she took the hat from Red and placed it on the dock in front of them. She crouched beside it and reached for the bag in Red's hand. She pulled out a fistful of the powder and dumped it inside the hat, feeling silly at first until she felt it shudder and watched it take on a slight glow, ensuring that the magic had worked. She handed the rest of the bag back to Red, which she stored in her bag for safe keeping. It was agreed that they should take the remainder in case they needed it in the Enchanted Forest.

Emma thought back to the time she had helped Regina get the hat to open a portal the first time. She had not realized it had been her touch that had done the trick back then, but thinking back on it, she realized she must have had magic pulsing through her even then. She took another deep, steadying breath, grasping the brim of the hat on either side, then spun it like a top.

The hat erupted into a whirling black portal, causing a current in the air that blew the three women's hair out of their faces, forcing them to squint. Snow reached out for her hand, and Emma grasped it tightly. On her other side, Red had done the same. The three women regarded each other for a moment, taking a collective breath. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma caught Snow casting one final glance at the pirate ship, now far into the horizon. Then, the three of them jumped.

Emma pinched her eyes closed and held her breath until the journey was through, which was a matter of mere moments. Still, those moments were a tumble of motion, a swirling sensation she had only felt once before as she sensed the gravity of being ripped away from one world and thrown into another.

She landed roughly and tumbled to the ground, her companions falling likewise by her side. She could tell by the pad of pine needles that met her back that she was on a forest floor. She blinked and took a stabilizing breath. They had made it, and there was no going back.

Emma stood and wiped the dirt from the back of her jeans.

"Are you ok?" her mother asked her, stepping forward to inspect her. She nodded.

"Yeah, you?"

"Fine."

The trio looked about them, Emma's eyes scaling the tall trees. She had a strong craving for a cheeseburger and fries, most likely because she knew that was something she could never get here. Snow may be skilled at shooting game with her bow, but grilled over a makeshift fire on sticks with no spices or condiments to flavor them, the food had definitely not been on the very short list of things Emma had missed from the first time she had been to this world.

"Do you know where we are?" Emma asked, again feeling uncomfortable as she realized her dependence on the other two women with her for information. This patch of forest looked no different from any other patch of forest.

"I think… I think I do," Snow answered slowly, turning in a circle as she inspected their surroundings. "This place seems very familiar to me. Hold on, let me get my bearings."

She spent a few more moments stationary, concentrating. Emma wondered if she wasn't just looking, but also listening. In the movie she had seen growing up, Snow White had been able to talk to animals. Although that version of Snow White had also been able to sing, which Mary Margaret had insisted to Emma a number of times was not an accurate portrayal in any way shape or form.

Red too was looking about her with a vague sense of familiarity.

"Snow," she started. "Are we where I think we are?"

Emma turned for her mother's response, but Snow did not answer. Instead, she took a few steps forward distractedly. Emma made to follow her, and not ten paces later, she stopped, staring at something in the forest.

"Yes," she whispered, a nostalgic smile spreading on her face. "Yes we are."

Emma looked around. She could see nothing about this patch of woods that distinguished it from the patch of woods they had stood in ten paces back. She had spent her childhood running through crowded city streets and back alley ways, every once in a while finding a particularly warm bench or subway staircase to sleep under when she didn't feel safe going back to her foster homes. She could tell a homeless man from a drug dealer in the blink of an eye, but she could not for the life of her find anything noteworthy in the forest before her.

"And where is that, exactly?" she prodded, hating to be left out of the loop. Snow looked up at her and smiled still wider.

"I'll show you," she said. She walked towards what appeared to be the rotting end of a very large fallen tree, but as Emma followed her, Snow disappeared into it. Emma paused and did a double take for a moment before hesitantly following suit. She ducked under the opening of the trunk and emerged in a small, dark room.

"What is this?" she asked.

"This is where I used to live," Snow beamed. Emma raised her eyebrows. "This was my hideout when I first started living in the woods, after Regina ran me off."

"I thought you lived with Leroy and the others," Emma said. "You know, the seven dwarves."

"That was later," Snow said with a wave of her hand. "This came first. I camped out here for quite a while. I chose it because it was close to the road that ran from the kingdom to Regina's summer palace. I used to steel jewels from her carriages as they passed and use them to trade for food and firewood and things."

Red entered behind them, the cramped room becoming still more crowded.

"I can't believe this is all still here!" she exclaimed, looking around. "Brings back some memories."

"We stayed here together, for a short period of time," Snow explained off-handedly to Emma.

"Sounds like a sitcom," Emma snorted. "Snow White and Little Red Riding Hood are roommates in a studio hide out in an overgrown log in the woods."

"Never a dull moment," Snow concurred. "This will be a perfect home base."

Emma blinked, her mouth hanging open slightly. She stared about the tiny compartment.

"Any chance we can stay in that palace?" she suggested. "You know, the big regal one with lots of space?"

"You mean the one that has been totally demolished by the curse?" Snow reminded her. "I know it's small, but this is ideally situated. It's not far from the summer palace, which is where I banished Regina when Charming and I took the kingdoms back and defeated her the first time."

"You banished her to a palace?" Emma said, raising her eyebrows again. "Wow, that must have shown her."

"I was going to suggest we try there first," Snow continued, ignoring Emma's jibe. "But it looks like the sun is about to set, so we might want to pitch camp and wait for tomorrow. I don't want to be poking around in the dark. I honestly have no idea what kind of condition that palace will be in, if Regina is living in it once again. She may have guards or sentries."

Red was tasked with finding firewood while Snow donned her bow and sheath of arrows and took Emma on a short hike to a small pool for water, keeping an eye out for game along the way. Eventually they came across the small, shallow pond. Snow looked down into the water.

"I used to come here all the time as a little girl," she reminisced, a nostalgic haze glossing over her eyes. "I would come here whenever I felt sad or lonely. The still water comforted me. I came here after my mother died, and again when my father died. I ran here when Regina sent Graham to kill me," she said, and Emma looked up to catch her eye. "This is where he spared my life."

Emma stepped up and stood beside her, looking down at her reflection, visible in the light of the growing dusk.

"I had something similar," she shared. "Most of my host families were in cities, but once I was placed with a family in rural Michigan. They didn't have very much time for me, and eventually I got found out and sent back with the Social Worker discovered I wasn't being sent to school, but for a few months I really just ran around in the woods. There was this stream in the back yard, and I would go there, sometimes even sleep out there, just watching the water rush by. There is something very soothing about water. Especially when..." she hesitated, "...when you're feeling lonely."

"Yes," Snow agreed, truly touched at Emma sharing her memory and trying to maintain a certain emotional composure so as not to frighten her from opening up with similar stories in the future.

The two stood in a calm, peaceful silence for a moment, then Snow took a deep breath, shaking her head as if breaking from a trance.

"It's getting dark, I should really go and try to find some game," she said, readjusting her sheath on her back. "Why don't you fill the containers we brought with water and I'll meet you back here so we can walk back to camp together."

Emma was grateful for the suggestion, saving her from having to admit that she had no idea how to find her way back to the hideout, especially as the evening was growing darker. She knelt and pulled the water bottles they had brought with them from her bag, beginning to fill them.

As she was finishing, she heard a disconcerting rustling from up the bank. She froze. She heard it again, this time closer. Footsteps hurriedly coming towards her. She glanced about her, but the sun had set some time ago and already it was quite dark. She couldn't see a thing. She quickly slipped the final bottle quietly into her bag, flinging it over her shoulder as she shuffled her way, quickly and silently as possible, to hide behind some nearby bushes. She waited, trying to calm her breathing, as the footsteps came closer.

At length, someone appeared amongst the trees in the distance, hurrying forward and not seeming to pay too much attention to where he was going. As Emma squinted, she saw it was a boy. Her breath caught in her chest, irrationally hopeful as he continued in a flash, not slowing down until he was at the pool, where he dropped to his knees, skidding to a halt at the water's edge.

She heard a sniffle and realized that the boy was crying. She shifted slightly, and her heart melted as his face came into her view. There was no mistaking it, despite the red eyes and splotchy cheeks as tears continued to leak from his eyes. It was her son.

"Henry?!" Emma exclaimed, her voice hoarse with disbelief and excitement as she emerged from the bushes. Henry looked up and gasped, startled. He jumped and began to back away. "Henry, it's ok, it's me," Emma cooed, stepping forward. She wanted to wrap him in her arms, but she stopped as she saw her son continue to back away. There was no trace of recognition on his face, of joy or relief, only a startled and anxious fear. She froze, devastated, when he asked her in an uncertain stutter:

"Who are you?"

* * *

**The longest chapter yet, and perhaps a bit nondescript, but I had to get us from point A to point B. Hopefully there is enough fluff and the ending is startling enough to keep you entertained until the next installment, when we dive more into Henry's strange reaction to seeing his mother.**

**I really appreciate all of the positive feedback, I'm so glad this story is entertaining for at least a few fans! Especially the encouragement for my writing is particularly nice, as I do like writing and it's good to know I can carry a story effectively enough. I am sorry for all the dependencies and avenues that are not explored. I'm really just writing this as I go. I know some of this is simplifying things, especially when it comes to Regina's character, but I want to make sure that the story moves forward and doesn't get too caught up in keeping track of everyone's emotions and redemptive qualities to have a moving plot line. I haven't come up with an ending yet, but rest assured I'm not a fan of endings where 'the good guys win and the bad guys lose'. That's too simple for me. I want the ending to be a happy one, and with this family dynamic that can't happen in a simple way, so I guess I'll have to get creative.**

**Thanks for all the support and the feedback. I hope you keep reading!**


	15. Something Missing

"You don't know who I am?" Emma asked, her throat dry and her mind completely flabbergasted. Henry regarded her skeptically.

"Should I?" he asked.

Emma tried to think quickly. Clearly something was off. She looked down at herself to see if for some reason she appeared different, but she was exactly herself. Before she could even think of what to say, Henry asked her another question.

"How do you know my name?"

Again, Emma was at a loss. What was becoming increasingly, and painfully, clear to her was that her son had no memory of her. It was as if she had been completely erased from his life. She swallowed hard, unsure of have to proceed. She didn't want to scare him off or hurt him. She saw his red and puffy eyes, raw from crying, and realized he was in a very emotionally vulnerable state. She didn't want to add to that stress by trying to explain who she was, especially without fully understanding what was going on.

"I… I've just heard other people talk about you," she tried blindly, thinking quickly. "You're the boy who… lives in the palace, right? With Regina?"

"Yeah," Henry said, his voice still thick with skepticism, but he deigned to take a step closer. "Who are you?" he asked again, his tone hesitant, though not accusatory.

"I… uh… my name is Emma," she said, struggling to keep her sorrow and confusion from her face as she reintroduced herself to her own son. "I'm… new here."

She couldn't think of anything else to say that would be safe from his confusion, and she breathed a bit easier when he shrugged, accepting her vague explanation without concern or question.

"Well, I'm sorry if I bothered you, Emma," he sniffed in a small voice. Emma put her confusion aside and stepped forward in concern as she noticed the tear streaks on her son's cheeks.

"Why were you crying?" she asked gently, though she stopped herself from going to embrace him, realizing that would be inappropriate given the circumstances. Henry looked down at the forest floor.

"I don't know," he said sheepishly. He seemed extremely dejected. He sat himself back down on the edge of the pool, his knees curled up to him so that his chin rested on top of them.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want," Emma said, a bit disappointed. She sat next to him as well, not close enough to touch, though it was killing her not to have him in her arms, but close enough that she hoped some comfort would leak to him. "We can talk about something else."

"No, it's not that," Henry said in a stuffy voice. "I just… I literally don't know. Sometimes I get really sad, and I don't know why, but I can't help it. It's kind of like something is missing, but I can't put my finger on what."

Emma swallowed hard as she watched her son express his loneliness. She instinctively put her arm comfortingly around him.

"It's ok to cry," she soothed.

"My mom doesn't like it," he sniffed. "She says if I don't know why I'm sad then I shouldn't be sad."

Emma's tensed, her face hardening as an anger pulsed through her. She did not know what was going on but she had no doubt that Regina had something to do with it, and she was furious that she was making her son feel guilty for displaying his emotions. That's often how her foster parents had made her feel, and it was not healthy for a child not to cry.

"Is she unkind to you, Henry?" she could not help herself from asking. If that woman had torn her boy away just to abuse him, there would be more than hell to pay.

"She's fine, it's just sometimes I can tell I make her angry for some reason and I don't know why. It's like I've done something and I've forgotten it, but she hasn't."

Emma's brow furrowed as she tried to piece everything together. Henry couldn't remember who she was, and he was talking about missing something that isn't there and forgetting things that other people seemed to remember. It seemed that he felt it was just himself being confused and angsty, but she thought there must be more to it. Somehow, parts of his memory were missing, but how could that be?

"Anyway, I like to come here when I feel that way," Henry continued. "When I feel lonely or sad for no reason. I like this place. For some reason, it feels very homey to me. Very familiar."

Emma thought about what Snow had said. How she had used to come and sit by the pool when she was sad or lonely or pensive. How she had fled here when her mother had died, and again her father. Something was telling her that while Henry's consciousness couldn't seem to remember her, to remember any of his family from Storybrooke, that his subconscious did. Was there something in him that was in fact sensing his grandmother's attachment to this very same pool from so many years ago.

"Did you used to come here a lot before," she asked, trying to get more information about who this boy thought he was and what he did remember. "When you were a kid?"

"I'm still a kid," he countered.

"Really?" Emma asked lightly, looking him over. "You look more like you're about to be a teenager to me."

A smile crept onto Henry's face. It melted her heart. She nudged him softly with her shoulder and smiled back at him. He turned back to look at the water, and some confusion slid into his face as he crinkled his brow.

"I guess I always came here," he said, although there was uncertainty in his voice. "Even when I was younger. I must have. Although, I don't really remember the first time…"

He trailed off. Emma watched him intently. This reminded her of the reactions she used to get from Mary Margaret or other citizens of Storybrooke when she asked them about their pasts. A vague amnesia that caught them slightly off guard. But before she could press further, she heard a rustling from behind her. She and Henry turned simultaneously, following the sound.

"I got a few squirrels, but no rabbits," Snow was tallying, looking down at the game she carried in her right hand, while her bow was in her left as she walked towards them. She looked up and stopped suddenly as she saw Emma's company. Emma quickly stood from where she was squatted. Snow's jaw dropped. "Is that…?"

"Henry, this is my friend, Mary Margaret," Emma introduced pointedly, raising her eyebrows and her voice, signaling to Snow that not all was right. Snow halted and tilted her head confused. Emma continued. "Mary Margaret, this is my new friend Henry. We just met," she emphasized.

Snow blinked, her mouth hanging open, completely bewildered. She looked from her daughter to her grandson. Henry looked back at her vaguely and waved half a wave. Snow swallowed her shock and pulled on her most convincing smile.

"It's nice to meet you Henry," she said, her voice quivering a bit.

"Nice to meet you, too," Henry offered. "I should be getting back though. My mom will get worried. She doesn't like me wandering off after dark, because of the ogres." He turned to Emma and hesitated, as if he didn't want to leave right away. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime, Emma?" he asked in an adorably tentative voice.

"Sure, kid," she said, smiling at him. "It's a plan."

Henry smiled. Emma fought the urge to reach out and pat his head, to pull him into her arms and hold him tightly. She sufficed to wave as he bounded off back in the direction of the castle. Snow drew up beside Emma.

"What…?" she began softly.

"Someone's tampered with his memory," Emma said, her voice hard, trying to keep emotion from it. "He doesn't remember anything." She turned and locked eyes with her mother. "He doesn't remember me."

Then, Emma could not stop them. The tears rose into her eyes faster than she could stuff them back down, and they spilled over and slid down her cheeks. Her face scrunched in an attempt to hold it all back, to not feel any of the extreme emotions she had just experienced in the last ten minutes – the relief and the joy and the disappointment and the anger and the grief. Snow reached for her daughter and Emma buried her face in her mother's embrace, succumbing to uncontrollable sobs.

For a moment, Snow was at a loss for what to say as her daughter completely broke down into her shoulder. She just held her tighter and stroked her hair, cooing reassurances she wasn't sure even she believed.

"We'll find a way to fix it," she promised.

* * *

**A short chapter, but I promise that in the next chapter we get some answers. But just because Emma and Snow find out what happened to Henry's memory doesn't mean they are any closer to figuring out what to do about it.  
**


	16. Confrontation

**Hey everyone! Please note, at the end of this chapter I ask for a little bit of reader participation for how I continue the story. Read on to contribute your opinion!**

**Also, I have been using this to procrastinate, but I really should be studying for my standardized test in my spare time, so I decide to combine the two activities! I am going to include at least 10 SAT/GRE words in each chapter, killing two birds with one stone. I'm really just doing this for me, but if you are in a similar boat studying for either one of these tests, feel free to benefit! I'm working from a list of 5,000 words, so I don't think I'll get through them all, but I can get through some of them at least. The words are bolded, and if you ask, I'd be happy to include definitions at the bottom. Also, if you find the words are taking something away from the narrative voice, let me know and I'll stop.  
**

* * *

Emma wished her mother would stop protesting. Her harried whispers carried in the silence of the night, and Regina's guards were sure to hear.

"… if we just wait one more day, I can send word to Charming and they can come here from Neverland and we can figure something out together."

"I'm not waiting one more day," Emma huffed adamantly as she trudged her way forward through the brush. "I want answers, and I want them now."

Snow knew better than to argue with her daughter when she was on a mission, but she had followed her to the castle anyways, shooting protests at her but in actuality just wanting to protect her should she need a buffer.

Emma halted behind a tree, peering around it stealthily as the hard iron spikes of the castle came into view, catching in the moonlight.

"We should wait for back up," Snow tried again. "The castle is heavily guarded, there's no way we can get in without…"

"I happen to be pretty skilled at breaking and entering," Emma breathed, her face dark and set, "and in all my experience I've learned that the fewer people, the better."

"But if we just…" Snow started, but Emma swung around and looked her sharply in the face.

"I'm doing this," she said firmly. "Tonight. I'm breaking in, I'm going to find Regina, and I'm going to make her tell me everything. Now, are you coming with me, or not?"

Emma held Snow's gaze, forcing her to answer. Snow hesitated for a moment, trying to think of something else to say to deter her daughter from this hasty scheme, but as she saw the resolution in Emma's eyes, she knew it would be no good. If there is one thing she had passed onto her daughter, besides her chin, it was her **tenacity**.

"Fine," she sighed, nodding. "Alright, yes. I'm coming."

"Good," Emma hissed. "Then shut up!"

The pair padded quietly up behind the castle, avoiding detection by the guards marching in front by staying in the shadows. Thanks to Snow's intimate knowledge of the structure, having been an adventurous child who had weaseled her way into every corner and crevice of her summer home, they did not even attempt to breech the front gate. They crept around the back of the building to a smaller back door. Two guards stood watch outside it, but Emma was confident they could best just two if they had the element of surprise on their side. The trick was doing it quietly so they did not raise the alarm.

She left her mother in position while she crept closer with the nimble, lithe skill of someone raised sneaking around in dark places. She pressed her back up against the wall of the palace and slid her way along it's girth until she was right behind one of the guards, still in the shadows. She flashed her eyes to where she'd left Snow, hiding, to signal she was in place.

An arrow flew from the darkness and hit it's target expertly. One of the guards fell to the ground. In the moment of time when the second guard startled, before he was able to call for help or release any kind of exclamation, Emma emerged, wrapping her hands around his neck and twisting until she felt him fall unconscious. She stood their, standing over the two bodies, as Snow came to join her.

"Nice work," he mother complimented, frowning.

"You too," Emma offered through her heavy breathing, returning her scowl.

Snow led the way to Regina's bed chamber, ducking every once in a while down a narrow, hidden corridor as they heard the footsteps of interior guards approaching. Emma fell behind for a brief moment as they drew closer when she passed a door that had a playful, childish sign on hanging on it that read 'Henry'.

She stared at it and felt a deep longing. Her son was probably asleep right behind that door. Snow retraced her steps and came to stand beside her, reading the lettering with a sad, knowing look on her face. She gave her daughter's hand a sympathetic squeeze, then motioned for her to continue to follow.

"It's right up here," she whispered. Emma glanced back one final time at the door with her son's name as she followed.

Regina was not in her room, but it did not take long for her to return. Emma and Snow backed into the shadow of the open door, **waylaying** their opportunity to strike. Regina entered and strode up to the mirror beside her bed, facing herself in it. Emma did not give her time to speak.

"I warned you not to under estimate me, Madam Mayor," she growled in a low voice, positioning herself behind Regina. The queen looked up suddenly to see the blonde reflected over her shoulder in her mirror. She only had the time to whip around before Emma's hand **perforated **her chest and closed her grasp around her heart. Regina didn't have time to be shocked as she felt the sensation she had seen so many of her own victims experience as she watched from the other side. Emma paused menacingly, her hand still wrapped around Regina's heart in her body. Regina gasped a bit, her lips slightly parted, her eyes flickering to where Snow had emerged behind her daughter, her face stony.

"I knew it was only a matter of time before you showed up," Regina said, trying to pull her usual **nefarious** grin, although she fell short as she attempted to cope with the strange tightness in her chest. "I see you've learned a new trick, Ms. Swan."

Emma's fist clenched still tighter.

"What did you do to him?" she bit fiercely.

"I didn't do anything to him," she **repudiated.**

"Liar!" Emma hissed. "He has absolutely no memory of me, so don't stand there and tell me you did nothing."

"I'm not lying," Regina protested, and Emma looked into her eyes and saw that it was true. She took a step back. Then, with a squelching noise, she pulled the muscle she was holding from Regina's chest. Regina gasped slightly, then looked down at it pulsing and red in her palm.

"Then explain to me why my son has no idea who I am," she **enjoined**. She flicked the muscle and Regina sat on the end of her bed. "Tell me everything."

Regina drew a deep breath, starting at Emma with **abhorring** eyes, as if she were wondering if she could resist obeying, but she knew she couldn't.

"He did it to himself," she explained, bitter disappointment in her voice. "When I first brought him here, he was miserable. I thought it would wear off in time. That maybe he'd learn to be happy in the land where I grew up, the land he always wanted to visit. But it didn't get any better. In fact, it got worse. Then, about two months after we left Storybrooke, he went missing for almost a week. I sent every rider I had out looking for him. They found him at an old abandoned cabin." Regina looked at Snow. "A place you are quite familiar with, if I recall."

"The dwarves cottage!" Snow gasped.

"He knew where it was from his book. I think he went there on purpose. I think he'd been planning it for a while, because he knew what was in there," Regina continued. Emma racked her brain. She had read that book cover to cover several times in the months Henry was missing, familiarizing herself with the land and history she was about to dive into. What would Henry have sought in the dwarves house? Her eyes widened.

"The potion," she whispered, remembering the small vile Rumpelstiltskin had given Snow to forget Charming. Regina nodded.

"There was some left. I don't know what he added, but it was more than just something of yours, Ms. Swan. Because when he drank it, he didn't just forget you. He forgot the curse and Storybrooke. He forgot everything."

Emma was physically struggling not to **throttle** the heart in her hand, not just due to her rage at it's owner, but also due a sheer tense and trembling sensation she felt creeping over her entire body as she tried to reign her panic in and maintain an intimidating, aggressive face.

"In all honesty, at first I thought I couldn't have done it better myself," Regina continued. "This was a way for him to be with me and not constantly be sad and missing the rest of his family. He could finally be just mine, truly and only mine. But it just made things worse. He's still sad now, he just doesn't know why."

"He thinks he's crazy," Emma accused, warm emotion filling her voice. "He thinks there is something wrong with him because he's sad all the time, like he's missing something he can't remember, because he literally can't remember it. But he thinks it's all in his head. And you're not helping him. You're doing exactly what you did before, just sitting there, content to let him think he's the one who's wrong."

"What would you have me do?" Regina asked viciously. Though she could not stand and advance on Emma for the accusation, Emma felt a **thermal** flare in the heart she held that told her that she wanted to. "You think he'd believe me if I told him the truth?"

"You just don't want to face up to what you've done to him," Emma argued. "Because explaining it would mean you'd have to fess up to all the crap you've put him through to his face and watch as he learns all over again what a monster you truly are."

"I assume you haven't told him any of this?" Regina said. "Told him who you are and how you really know him? You've held off for the same reason I did – because it will hurt Henry to know the truth."

"He's already hurting," Emma protested Regina's logic. "Grieving the loss of someone is one thing, but grieving the loss of something you can't even remember? He doesn't deserve it!"

"It won't matter," Snow said from where she had been **latent**, watching the scene unfold before her behind Emma's shoulder. "When I drank the potion to forget Charming, he came and found me and reminded me who he was, but I still didn't love him back. It wasn't about reminding me who he was, it was about reminding me who _I_ was."

Emma was losing control of herself and her emotions. After all she had gone through, once again she found herself in the position where Henry would get hurt, no matter what she did. No matter what anyone did.

"Well, you have the power now, Ms. Swan," Regina purred, a strangely accepting grin creeping onto her lips as she looked at her own heart in Emma's hand. "I can only imagine this is exactly the opportunity you were hoping for. To have my heart in the palm of your hand so you can crush it. I'm assuming that's why you had the imp teach you how? I know how hard a trick it is to learn, so I'm sure you didn't just pick it up all by yourself."

In that moment, Emma desperately wanted to take her up on her suggestion.

"Actually, I was going to give it to Henry," she said, and watched as Regina blinked, a **modicum** of understanding spreading on her face. "I was going to give him yours and mine both, because that's who they belong to. It's who they should belong to. Then he wouldn't have to choose anymore. He wouldn't have his family torn apart like he has his entire life."

A few tears leaked their way down Regina's cheeks as she realized what Emma was saying. She wasn't exactly sure if they were tears of anger or remorse or love for her son, but they came nonetheless.

"But you've thrown quite a wrench in that plan," she breathed, taking a step towards Regina so that she towered above her. She reached down and slowly placed her heart back inside her warm body, her eyes also moist, but at the same time cold and hard. "You keep this. Henry deserves better."

Emma released the heart inside Regina's chest, and Regina blinked as she drew a long breath, her self-control returned to her. When she opened her eyes, the pair was gone. She sat alone in her room, trying to calm her breathing.

* * *

**In the next chapter, we take a break from our heroines and see what's happening to our boys on board the Jolly Roger. But in order to finish that chapter, I need a little help from you guys.**

**I have two options for the way this story could go. I don't want to keep our boys and girls separated for too long, because that's no fun. So either Charming, Neal and Hook can come to the Enchanted Forest and we can continue the story there, or Emma, Snow, and Red (and Henry and Regina) can end up in Neverland and we go from there. **

**Here's where you come in – you get to decide! Which one do you want to see? Do you want the story to continue in a familiar setting, or go to a new place we haven't seen before? The voting polls are now open – go!**


	17. Some Lost Boys

"Be nice, Hook," they all heard Emma call out from the dock.

"Will you punish me if I'm not?" Hook asked with a promiscuous smile, crossing over the railing as he responded. "Because that's not great motivation on my end, I'll warn you."

In seconds, Charming had lept up the stairs and had his hand wrapped around the pirate's neck. There was only so much nettling a simple man like him could take.

"Emma may feel some kind of misguided sympathy for you, you haughty son of a bitch," he hissed menacingly, "but I don't. If you ever go near her again…"

"You'll what?" Hook challenged. "Kill me? Because I'm pretty sure I heard your daughter ask you specifically not to do that back there, and considering you have a life time of not being there for her, betraying exactly what she asked you to do might not be the best first step in gaining her trust."

Charming had no retort, but he still looked as if he wanted to jettison Hook from the ship immediately. He did not release him lightly. Hook rubbed his neck as Neal came to join them.

"Don't let him get to you, he's just being Hook," Neal huffed, climbing to join the pair on the upper deck. Charming shot him a dark look, Hook an amused one.

"Oh, yes, don't let me get to you," he said. "After all, I'm not the one who slept with her. He's the one who knocked her up and let her go to jail."

Charming froze and took in a deep breath to calm his rage. Neal addressed Hook.

"You haven't changed," he said, shaking his head slightly.

"You have, Peter," Hook rejoined. "Never thought I'd see you all grown up. A father, no less. Although, I don't know if knowing you son for five minutes actually counts as being a dad. To think how disappointed all those lost boys will be to learn that their fearless leader ended up abandoning his son just like they were all abandoned. Like father, like son, eh, Pan?"

Neal advanced on Hook, but Charming held out a hand to stop him, though he too glowered over his shoulder at the pirate.

"Take it back," Neal spat.

"But I guess we have an expert in our midst, so we can just ask him. What do you say, Charming? Does spending five minutes with your child really make you a father? If anyone would know, it would be you."

Charming sword was out of its sheath and racing for Hook's head in a flash, but Hook knew his ship too well. He grabbed easily at a rope hanging from the rigging near his head and swung himself of the way, landing a few yards to the left as the blade sliced through thin air.

"Someone's just jealous because I've spent more time with your daughter than you have," Hook taunted.

"Why don't you dance your way back over here and we'll see who's jealous," Charming seethed. Hook gave him a condescending smile.

"Charming you may be, but witty and poignant don't seem to have made the cut," he purred. "Wherever Emma got her astounding ability to quip snarky remarks, it definitely wasn't from you. Honestly, I don't see anything of you in her at all. But that's not surprising, now, is it? You may have found her now, but you can't make up for twenty-eight years of not being in her life. You can't go back and make the loneliness go away. No matter how hard you try, she is always going to be a little orphan at heart."

The devastating truth of the statement hung sourly in the air as Charming's shame overpowered his rage, his face falling emotionally at Hook's words.

"Now," Hook continued, "if you two are done projecting your own inadequacy onto me, I have a ship to captain."

Most of the rest of the day passed in silence, the sailing smooth and the crew members brooding in the wake of the heated conversation that had wracked the first moments of the journey. As the sky was faded from a dusk lilac to a deeper purple, effulgent stars popping out one by one, Hook settled himself sitting on a mound of extra netting, twisting his hook distractedly as his mind wandered. He did not know how long he'd been sitting there, quiescent, when he heard Neal come up from behind him.

"What did Emma say to you?" he asked. "The other day on this ship to let you release me?"

Hook glanced up at him, but then looked back out to sea, remaining silent.

"Fine. A different question then. Why do you want to kill my father?"

Hook's fidgety twisting stopped, but he did not look back at Neal, nor did he respond.

"Hey, don't worry about offending me," Neal assured him, copping a squat on a wooden box beside him. "I'm not the man's biggest fan. I know he's done some pretty terrible stuff. But what did he do to you, specifically?"

"The answers to both of your questions," Hook said, finally deigning to meet Neal's eye, his voice quiet and intriguing, "are one in the same."

Neal looked into Hook's eyes and blinked expectantly. Hook licked his lips, a hesitant, troubled expression on his face.

"But you don't get to know the answer," he said finally. He stood to walk away. Neal stared at him.

"Why the hell not?" he asked, outraged. Hook paused and looked back at him, and Neal was surprised to see that there wasn't anger or malice in his expression, only a bit of pain.

"Believe me," he said cryptically. "It's for your own good."

Neal watched him, confused and a bit annoyed, as he went to stand at the edge of the ship, leaning over the railing and staring out into the endless sky. After a moment, Charming came and took a seat beside him, avoiding his eyes, a look of sheepish and frustrated longing on his face.

"What was she like?" he asked.

"What?" Neal responded, unsure if he had heard correctly.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Charming clarified darkly. "I still don't like you, or what you did to my daughter. I can't stand having to ask you. I can't stand it that you were there and I wasn't, but that's where we are. You knew her then, so I'm asking you to tell me about her. Emma. What was she like when she was eighteen?"

"I was in love with her," Neal started.

"You don't have to go into that part," Charming grumbled, his ears growing red.

"Right, sorry," he apologized quickly. "Just – kind of hard to forget. She wasn't much different than she is now. Stubborn, quick, smart. Freakishly strong. We were both thieves – we had to be, just to get by – but she always had this kind of moral code she stuck too. She liked to collect things. Random things that we didn't have use or room for, but she'd collect them anyways and pile them in the trunk like treasures in some chest."

Charming's eyes had grown glossy as he listened, picturing her at eighteen, an vagrant bereft of any kind of home or family. The image nearly elicited a sob. He gave a subtle sniff and cleared his throat.

"But she smiled more back then," Neal continued, frowning. "I mean, maybe things weren't so screwed up, but it's not like we had it made or anything. We were living out of that bug. But still, she smiled more. She was more playful, less severe."

He looked at his hands ashamed, then squinted back up at the stars.

"I suppose I'm to thank for that shift," he said.

"You're not the only one," Charming sighed. "When I put her in that wardrobe, I had no idea what I was sending her to. I hoped it would be something better than… what apparently she got."

The pair shared a moment of wallowing as their guilt threatened to drown each of them.

"Did she ever talk to you about it?" Charming pried still further, his voice growing softer the more he asked. "About her childhood, about what it was like growing up for her in the system?"

"Not much," Neal said. "I knew better than to ask. I know she was with her first family until she was three, but then they had their own children and sent her back."

Charming's face fell. Neal wondered if he should stop, if it was too much for him to hear.

"I didn't get a tally, but it sounds like she was never in any home after that for longer than eighteen months."

"She was a lost boy," came a soft voice from behind them. They both turned to look at Hook, who was leaning pensively over the edge of the ship, his back to them. He straightened and turned to face them, catching Neal's eye. Neal nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, she was."

"I thought you hated the lost boys," Charming said as Hook took a few quiet steps to join the conversation.

"That is the general trend, yes," he agreed. "But for one thing, lost boys don't tend to have long, flowing blonde hair and a mouth that won't quit. And secondly, Ms. Swan and I bonded over something we have in common."

"What's that?" Charming asked uncomfortably. But instead of looking him in the eye, Hook glanced up at Neal, piercing him with an accusatory glare.

"We've both had our hearts broken."

* * *

**A chapter of testosterone-filled angst! **

**Still haven't decided yet which of the two avenues I want to pursue with this story - Enchanted Forest or Neverland. I will have to by the next chapter. Right now it's leaning towards going to the Enchanted Forest. If you have any thoughts, share them in the reviews so I can know the preferences as I continue!**


	18. A New Course

The sweat sprouting on Charming's brow evaporated before it had the chance to slide down his face. He remembered that about this room. How dry and hot it was. He had wondered the last time, when he was there for days, how he didn't dehydrate from the heat. The smoky air dragged water from his body like a vacuum, until there wasn't any moisture left, not even to swallow and sooth his parched throat.

He sat in the middle of the room as the flames licked around him. He had taken some poppy powder with him because he hadn't wanted to admit to his wife or daughter that he wouldn't need it. He visited the room constantly. Sure, since his wife had returned and slept next to him he had been able to glean a few days a week of no nightmares, but more often than not he was transported back to that room where he had spent those few horrible days that had felt like an eternity.

This night, with Snow yet again a world apart, there had been no doubt in Charming's mind where his spirit would go as soon as he closed his eyes. He tried to settle himself as far from any fire as possible to wait out the long night before he woke back in his real body.

"Charming?" came a high-pitched voice from among the crackling flames. Charming raised his head and squinted through the flames. Yard from him stood a sight that warmed his heart – his wife.

"Snow!" he said, joy filling him as he stood from his self-protective, huddle stance. He reached for her. The two moved synchronously forward to take each other's hands until they realized, as they brushed right through, that they could not. Still, Snow smiled up into the face of her husband.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, bewildered. "I thought we agreed to meet tomorrow."

"I thought I might find you here anyway," Snow said with a knowing smile. "I know you don't always need the poppy powder to end up here."

"How long have you known?" he asked, feeling a guilt for having kept the truth from his wife while also a small flare of relief that she knew anyway.

"Since we came back," Snow admitted. "Sometimes I'll wake up with beside you and you will be sweating and mumbling or even wincing. It took me years to get over the nightmares after my curse."

"I don't remember it taking you that long," he said, brow creasing in concern.

"Well, you're not the only one who kept it a secret," she said, looking into his eyes. He wanted to reach out and wrap her in his arms. It was so difficult to have her so close, and yet so far.

"How's Emma?" he asked.

"She's safe," Snow started, and Charming sighed in relief. "But we have news."

Charming looked up expectantly. He couldn't exactly read Snow's face.

"Good news, or bad news?"

"Both," she said, and his intrigue grew. "We found Henry." A massive grin sprouted on Charming's face, but Snow continued before he could get too excited. "Regina brought him to live in her palace here."

"Emma must be so relieved," Charming said, though he noted that his wife's frown only increased when he said this.

"Well, that's the thing," she started, but then hesitated, trying to find the words. "It's not exactly… it seems he…" she looked up into his curious face. "He doesn't remember any of us."

As Charming's face fell, Snow recounted to him all she and Emma had experienced in their first day back in the Enchanted Forest. Henry's chance encounter with Emma by the pool, the story Regina had told them about Henry drinking the potion and forgetting all about Storybrooke.

"He doesn't remember any of it?" Charming whispered.

"It's complicated," Snow explained. "He doesn't recognize Emma, or me, but apparently he's been feeling the absence of his family even though he can't remember them. When he spoke with Emma, he said he felt lonely, like he was missing something but he just didn't know what. I think part of him does remember, but even still, it was quite a shock for Emma to see him and have him not know who she was."

"How's she dealing with it?"

"She's doing the best she can," Snow sighed, the true answer to the question etched in her face, "but in all honesty, she's devastated. We thought locating him would be the hardest part. None of us could have expected this."

"We found a way to reverse the affects of the potion once," Charming recounted, a ray of hope sparking his mind, "when you drank it to forget me. We'll find a way again."

"Yes, but first, I think it's best you guys come over here. Now that we've found Henry, there's no reason for you to go to Neverland anymore. Honestly, we probably should have known Regina would have taken him here all along."

"We couldn't have known for sure."

"I know, but in any event, I think Emma could use all the support she can get as we try and figure out where to go from here. I know I could."

Snow leaned forward as if to curl herself against Charming's chest, but stopped herself as she remembered where they were and why that wouldn't work.

"Of course," Charming said. "We'll change course first thing in the morning."

"I'm glad," she smiled up at him. For a moment, they just looked at each other. "I don't know how long the effects of the powder will last," she admitted in a disappointed voice. "I don't want to leave you in here alone."

"I'm never alone," he said with a romantic grin. "You're always with me, wherever I am."

* * *

"He doesn't remember anything?"

Neal's face showed pure, devastated shock as Charming delivered the news. Hook's mimicked it beside him. They stood together in a moment of speechlessness before Neal turned away, his face in his hands, and took a few steps over to the edge of the deck, leaning against it and staring out of the water pensively.

"How's she taking it?" Hook asked in a vulnerable voice. "Emma?"

"How would you feel if you found your kid only to have him stare at you like a stranger?" Charming offered insensitively. "Oh that's right, you don't have a kid, do you?"

Hook glared at him, and Charming did regret the jibe a moment after he said it. They were all stressed, but it wouldn't help to turn on each other. They already had enough of a fight ahead of them, it seemed.

"We should change course," Neal said, pulling away from the edge and heading for the upper deck.

"I'll get the beans out," Charming said, moving to follow him.

"Not so fast," Hook called out, and the other two halted, turning to look at him incredulously.

"Excuse me?" Neal asked.

"This is my ship," Hook insisted. "I'm it's captain. It doesn't go anywhere unless I say so."

Charming and Neal both looked at each other before turning their confused attention back to Hook.

"We've found Henry," Charming said. Had Hook not been listening? "He's in the Enchanted Forest, so there is no reason for us to go to Neverland anymore."

"Right," Hook said with a pompous nod. "So we must needs head for the Enchanted Forest then."

"That's what I said," Neal confirmed.

"That's exactly my problem," Hook retorted. "You said it. This is my ship. I have to say it."

Neal and Charming glance impatiently at each other again, then back at Hook expectantly. He left them hanging in silence for a moment longer.

"So Pan, prepare to change course, and Charming, go find those beans," he said finally, a slightly amused grin cracking on his lips. Charming blinked back his annoyance, stabbing Hook with one final glare before ducking below deck. Neal just shook his head.

"Seriously, you haven't changed at all."

Hook merely flashed him a mischievous grin.

* * *

**Next Up: A discouraged Emma begins to despair and seeks solace in another member of their party.  
**


	19. Condescension and Caring

When Snow ducked her head out of the egress of the hideout stump to join the rest of their party, she found one of them missing. Well, two if you counted Hook, but ever since the Jolly Roger had docked a few days ago in the waters not far from their camp in the woods, no one had really counted Hook. He'd come and gone as he pleased and no one had given much mind to it. But now, the familiar golden hair of her daughter was absent as well, and noticeably so.

"Where's Emma?" she asked, trying to keep maternal worry from her voice.

"She went for a walk," Neal told her off-handedly as he continued to sharpen his sword where he sat.

"She's been gone a while, though," Charming mused, standing at the realization, his own parental concern gushing forward.

"I think she needed some time alone," Red said, catching Snow's eye meaningfully. Snow was not surprised. It had been over a week now and they were still no closer to finding a solution to their problem. They had journeyed to the dwarves house for the remnants of the potion in the desperate hopes of finding enough to determine its contents and produce some sort of antidote, but there was nothing left save an empty bottle that made Emma want to be sick. They had then turned course for lake Nostos, with hopes that the waters could restore Henry's memories, but they had only found a dry lakebed. Emma had stood beside it for nearly an hour trying to summon power enough to fill it again, as Cora had done, but her draining efforts yielded nothing and the group returned, Emma mumbling guiltily about how she should have allowed Gold to teach her other magic when she had the chance.

Snow found her daughter seated with her back against a tree and a frown on her face not twenty paces from the camp, but well hidden nonetheless. She was quite good at finding hidden corners of the forest, for someone who grew up in the city.

"Your father suggested we take a trip back to the old palace," Snow said gently as she stepped forward. Emma had no reaction to her mother making her presence known. "See if we can find anything there that can help us figure out how to restore Henry's memories. We have a fairly large library there, and if any of the books survived, maybe they will have some clues."

"What's the point?" she asked with a discomfit scowl, not looking her mother in the face. "We're not going to find anything there. We're not going to find anything to help anywhere, because there is nothing that can help."

"You sound like you've given up."

"Yeah, well, maybe I have," Emma sighed bitterly.

"You can't think like that," Snow insisted in a light, gentle voice, but the condescending optimism in her tone only provoked Emma's anger further. "We are all here, and we're not going to stop. We're going to keep fighting. You need to keeping fighting."

"I'm so tired of fighting. Where does it ever get us? Just deeper and deeper in this pile of…" Emma let out a long breath of frustration. "Maybe this is as good as it's going to get. Maybe it's never going to get any better, and the harder we try, the worse we will make things."

Snow scowled at her daughter fractious attitude. She had to remind herself that Emma had grown up in a world without happy endings. This philosophy was what she had been taught by years and years of being raised in that harsh world. Of course, she would see things differently. But she couldn't deny that a small amount of disappointment in her attitude flared inside her.

"Look, I know it is tiring. I know better than anyone. Because I've been fighting too. Fighting for a long time, fighting since before you were born…"

"Yeah, but you got a break at least, didn't you?" Emma asked mordantly. "You had twenty-eight years of blissful rest before you had to pick things back up again."

"Blissful?" Snow challenged, affronted.

"Meanwhile, I was fighting every second of those twenty-eight years. Fighting to stay alive, fighting to stay sane, fighting to survive a childhood that nobody wanted me to have. I'm tired, I'm just… I'm tired."

She looked more than tired. She looked exhausted. Snow remembered that not only was Emma experiencing the emotional pain of Henry's condition with ten times the severity that she was, but also that she was only six months recovered from a major, life threatening wound that she herself had dealt her. Snow wracked her brain, trying to think of something to raise her spirits, but before anything came to her, Emma stood, wiping the dirt from the back of her pants, and made to walk out further into the forest.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm going to go sit by the pool," Emma said, not meeting her mother's eye. "In case Henry decides to show up again."

Emma had been sitting by the pool at dusk every night since her first night. He had begun to show up more and more often, expecting her to be there, until now they met their almost every night in an unspoken arrangement.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Snow started. Emma was glad she was not facing her mother, as she could not stop herself from rolling her eyes in frustration. Snow persisted. "Do you really think it's a good idea to keep meeting him there? It might get him in trouble with his mother…"

"I'm his mother," Emma insisted fiercely.

"The more you let him get to know you outside of the context of who you really are, the longer you and he keep interacting while he doesn't know the truth, the harder it will be for him when he remembers."

"I just," Emma started, her voice soft and vulnerable. She was trying to come up with some strong rebuttal, but she couldn't think of one. "I just… miss him," she finished finally. "I just like to spend time with him."

"I know you do," Snow sighed sympathetically, stepping forward comfortingly, but Emma backed away, shaking her head.

"Don't get all condescending about this," she warned, and Snow stopped short, hurt by the insinuation. "He's my kid. I get to decide how I handle this completely messed up situation. He's not yours to decide how to raise. You missed your chance, and you can get it back. He's growing up, and I'm not going to standby and miss my chance to be there. I'm not going to waste any more time not being with him. It's my decision to make."

Emma stormed off up the acclivity through the tree trunks, partially from her own anger and partially because she couldn't bear to continue to see the hurt that had flooded her mother's face as she spoke.

* * *

Regina watched from her window as the small shadow of her son skipped across the lawn and into the woods, basking in the dull light of dusk. She'd known he'd been running off there every day for nearly a week now, and she had a pretty good idea where he went and who he met there. She was fairly certain Emma had not yet told Henry the truth about who she was and what had happened. He came back each night, and what made it worse was that he came back unusually happy, but he never let slip anything about remembering the past, and the Henry she had known and raised was not one to keep a revelation like that hidden for long.

But he skipped off nonetheless each night, and it killed Regina to know it was because Emma was giving him something that she just didn't know how to give. Comfort. It was something he would never accept from her, and on some level she couldn't blame him, considering what he needed comfort for were things she'd done to him. She stayed looking out long after the last trace of him had vanished under the cover of the trees. It was only the voice that spoke to her from the looking glass next to her that roused her from her perch by the window.

"I hope I'm not interrupting something," came the man's voice. Regina blinked, then turned to face her virtual visitor's reflection in her mirror.

"Not at all," she said, pulling on a nonchalant grin.

"Good," King George said. "How have you been, Regina? It's been a while."

"You asked to meet to discuss my well-being?" Regina asked, skeptically raising an eyebrow.

"I was just making pleasantries," King George admitted.

"We both know you're not a pleasant man," Regina sneered, "so why don't we skip to what it is you want."

"Well, that's quite simple," King George said. "I want Emma."

Regina blinked, though her smile did not falter.

"Why?"

"What's it to you?" King George responded. "I want her. You want her gone. Our interests are perfectly aligned."

"I've been in this game long enough to know that motive most definitely does matter," Regina insisted. "The fine print can make all the difference. Now that you are back here, I can only assume you have some kind of plans to restore yourself to a place of power in this world. I don't know how you found your way back, nor do I care, but I do care about protecting myself and my son in all of this."

"What if I were to tell you that if you help me, I promise that whatever plans I have for Emma, they will not touch you or Henry in anyway. I will stay out of your way if you will stay out of mine."

Regina considered the arrangement carefully, twisting a large ring around her finger as she did so. She did not like that Emma was back, threatening to tear down the very shaky scaffolding of a relationship she had managed to build with her son since he had drunk the potion and forgotten their past. Getting rid of her would solve a lot of problems, and perhaps give her and Henry the time they needed to truly make a fresh start.

"I tell you where you can find her, and you promise to leave me and my kingdom out of any plans you may have now or in the future?"

"That's correct," King George agreed, nodding.

Regina smiled and began with a long breath.

"There is a small pool…" she began.

* * *

Emma was becoming well practiced at pulling on a nonchalant smile as she waved goodbye to her son and watched him skip back towards the palace where he lived with Regina. But each one seemed to take a larger and larger piece of her heart with it. She watched him until he was out of sight, then turned back to stare into the still water of the pool, hugging her knees to her, a severe expression on her face.

"It's getting late," came a familiar British accent as Hook emerged from behind a tree. "I know you're a bit old to have a curfew, but I imagine your parents will worry nonetheless."

"I don't want to go back yet," Emma said, turning back to stare at her own hard reflection in the water.

"Not surprised," Hook said, settling himself on the ground next to her. She did not move her head, but he saw her watching him out of the corner of her eye. "I saw Snow come back from when she went to speak with you. I didn't get the feeling it was a pleasant conversation. I would ask what happened, but then again, I'm pretty sure I don't care."

"Must be nice," Emma said.

"What's that, love?"

"Not caring," she clarified. He seemed to pause for a moment, contemplating the statement.

"I guess that's the silver lining to having the one person you care about die," he said, nodding bitterly. "There's no getting her back, so there's no reason for hope, no reason to care anymore. Everything becomes inconsequential. It's surprisingly freeing."

"Sounds better than this," she said, her voice cold as stone. He looked at her, studying her face intently. Not a sign of emotion on it. She was surprisingly good at that.

"You know, you can cry if you want," he prodded.

"I'm not crying in front of you," she said.

"Why do you care?" he asked with a small smile. "Why do you give a damn if I see? Still think you need to prove you're strong to me? You've bested me three times now, don't worry, I've learned my lesson, so go on then, love. Let it out."

Emma stood abruptly and turned away from the pool. She paced her way towards one of the trees, then halted. At first, Hook, watched her from where he sat. Then he rose as well and moved to join her. She did not turn to watch him as he moved, but stayed stationary. Hook could not see her face, could not tell what might be going through her mind. When she turned to face him, there was no sign that any tears had left her eyes. In fact, they seemed instead to burn with some kind of passionate, desperate longing.

In one brisk movement, she reached for him, pulling him towards her as their lips collided. It was not like before – slow and seductive. It was forceful and carnal and full of unwanted emotions. She pressed her lips into his so hard it nearly hurt. Hook managed the surprise in a mere moment and then met her effusion full force, so that the entangled pair stumbled backwards. He had her back up against the tree and they continued to devour each other. He just let it happen, let himself dissolve into the sorrowful passion she was dealing him. As her hands traveled down his chest, tearing at the opening of his shirt and then wrapping around to his back, he looped his hook through one of the belt loops at her hip and pulled himself still closer to her. His free hand reached up and tangled itself in her long blonde hair as he felt her warm tongue slip between his lips.

She pulled away from him for a moment, her heated breath lingering on his skin as she blinked up at him, panting.

"Teach me not to care anymore," she whispered, pulling his mouth back towards hers.

* * *

**So begins a new leg of our story with a new villain! What does King George want with Emma, and will he succeed? And don't worry, readers, I don't intend on Henry's memory being gone for much longer, but of course that doesn't mean their troubles are over!**


	20. Breaking Ground

Hook stumbled his way through the forest trees as the first light of day began to break among them, scattered here and there by the trunks from where it shone in the east over the water. The evening had not just been physically tiring, although it most certainly was that too. But he found it was something else that exhausted him. A feeling he hadn't known in hundreds of years. Some kind of emotional experience that was draining him of energy. He needed time alone, and he needed to be on his ship.

Things always made much more sense to him with the soothing rocking of waves and the hollow sound of a wood floating on water beneath his feet. As he climbed his way to the edge of the forest, he saw his vessel docked in the sparkling morning water down in the cove, and smile. It always felt nice to come home.

But as soon as he stepped one boot on the deck, he knew something was wrong. He could just sense it. Someone had been on board his ship, an unwanted visitor. He froze, peering around with eyes but hesitant to move a muscle. He'd left the giant's cage shut, but it was ajar. He'd left that rigging line coiled, but one end of it now hung limp and loose. He surveyed the deck, but it was empty. The culprit may have already left, but some pirate instinct in him told him that he, or she, was still on board. He crept carefully towards the door leading below deck. He pushed it open slowly, readying his hook, the inside was dark. He stepped tentatively through the threshold and, using the light from the outside to guide his way.

Then very suddenly, the light was snuffed out as someone closed the door behind him. Before he could wheel fully around and see who had done it, he felt something hard hit the back of his head forcefully, and his world blackened as his knees gave way.

With slow striding steps, King George came forward from where he had watched in the shadows down the hallway. He surveyed the unconscious Hook, then gave his soldier who had dealt the blow an approving nod.

"Get him to the brig and prepare for the others to come. It's only a matter of time," he said ominously. "If all goes to plan, Emma should be here shortly, and in no condition to resist us."

The soldier nodded his understanding and began to move the body below him.

Emma could not hide a smile as she watched her son daintily and distractedly placing leaves from beside him in some kind of swirling pattern on the surface of the water and watching them float about. When she actually let herself feel it, she was mesmerized by her son all the time. How he could be so brave and strong, and so sensitive and innocent at the same time. It seemed like a miracle.

"Maybe at some point I can see where you live?" Henry suggested tentatively, sheepishly not looking his mother in the eye. She looked down at him, slightly amused, slightly sad.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," she said, turning back to the water in the pool. She had returned late in the night to where he father had been taking his watch, his face glowing in the fire. His eyes shown in concern and relief as he tried to hide the obvious thought inappropriate paternal emotions coursing through him. She was an adult and could do what she liked, but at the same time, as she saw his relief, she felt a bit bad. She of all people knew what it was like to worry about your child, and to feel shunned by them as well. She shouldn't have kept him waiting.

In an attempt to express her apology, which she couldn't seem to just say outright, she came and sat next to him in silence, placing her head gingerly on his shoulder.

"I'll apologize to Mary Margaret in the morning," she said finally. The only response Charming had given was to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. Then, the pair sat in a comfortable silence until Emma had dozed off against her father's shoulder.

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" Henry looked up at her with wide, curious, and slightly disappointed eyes. She melted and nearly gave in. She swallowed hard and thought for a moment.

"Let's just say that my friends and I aren't exactly supposed to be here, so it's better that people don't know where we are."

"I wouldn't tell anyone," Henry insisted enthusiastically. "I'm good at keeping secrets."

"I know you are," she smiled, "but it wouldn't really be fair to you to ask you to keep my secret. Or safe. You might get in trouble with your mother."

"Why aren't you supposed to be here?"

"You ask too many questions, kid," Emma chuckled.

"I'm a curious person," Henry shrugged, taking the comment as a compliment.

"Yes," Emma said, leaning back and looking her son up and down, smiling a bit. "You are, aren't you?"

Suddenly, the ground shook beneath them. Instinctively, Emma reached out to grasp her son. They both froze in the wake of the movement, eyes locked in shock.

"What was that?" Henry asked, but before Emma could answer, they felt another jolt, and her suspicions were confirmed.

"Ogres," she whispered, standing unsteadily and pulling Henry up with her. "You have to get home. Get back to the castle immediately."

Emma pulled Henry along towards where he usually came from each evening. They hadn't taken more than a few steps when they heard the cracking of falling trees that meant the ogre was close by. Then, a few more paces and the behemoth stepped out right in front of them, blocking their path and knocking Henry to the ground from the shudder the ground gave with the impact of his large foot.

Emma hadn't thought it possible that anything could be uglier than the last ogre she had encountered, but this one seemed to be. Or maybe she was biased because this ogre was reaching for her son as Henry attempted to right himself. Instinctively, Emma threw herself in front of him as a large hand swung violently down. She shoved him out of the way as the hand struck her back and felled her to the forest floor.

"Run, Henry," grunted, and at first Henry did. He turned and fled as fast as he could. But thirty paces away, he looked back and saw his mother had not followed. The ogre had her cornered with back against a tree. A panic flared inside him. He wasn't sure exactly where it came from.

"Emma!"

The ogre turned his head as if to follow the sound of the young child's voice, and Emma panicked.

"Hey!" she called in a loud voice, the ogre turning his attention back to her. "Over here, don't look at him, look at me!"

"Emma!" Henry called again. He took a few steps towards her.

"Keep running, kid! Don't look back!"

Henry was so confused as he watched the ogre bear down on this woman, whose abnegation had given him a chance to run. Why would she do that? And why did he get the feeling that she'd done that before. Why, all of a sudden, did that blonde hair ring a bell…?

"Mom!"

For a brief abeyance, the world seemed to freeze. Emma's jaw dropped as she turned to look her son in the eye and finally, _finally_, saw recognition there. She breathed an almost-thankful sigh of relief.

Then, the ogre's massive hand wrapped around her tightly and wrenched her from the ground. She felt it squeeze her insides until she thought she might burst like a balloon. A few seconds later, she felt her back slam up against the rough bark of a tall tree. As she opened her eyes and found herself on eye-level with the beast holding her, though he could not see her. His blind eyes darted to and fro as he sniffed and a whiff of his acrid breath wafted over her.

On the ground, Henry had run forward, heart flooded with panic as he saw the woman he now remembered as his true mother hoisted into the air and pinned against a tree. But before he could take more than a few steps, someone's arm was thrust in his path, restraining him from getting any closer.

"Stay back, Henry," he heard a gruff voice say.

"Mom!" Henry screeched again, trying to push past the man's hold on him, warm tears flooding his eyes.

"Get him out of here, Neal!" Emma called in a pained holler from her perch. The ogre squeezed still tighter, causing her to cringe as he stepped even closer to his pray.

While Neal continued to drag Henry further back from the violence, the rest of the party that had rushed with him closed in on the ogre.

"Emma!" Charming yelled, running straight for the base of the tree. The ogre shifted at the sound, looking around while clenching his fist still tighter. Emma let out a cry of pain, involuntarily reaching down and grasping the ogre's hand where he held her. Snow released a wayward arrow at the face of the monster, but in his shuffling it missed it's target and flew into the woods.

"Get him to look this way!" Snow begged someone in a high-pitched voice.

"Get away from her!" Charming called desperately, now nearly under the beast's large, stomping feet. Emma attempted to warn him to stand back but she found she couldn't even inhale enough breath to speak.

"Hey, witless!" Red snarled in a loud, booming voice. "Over here!"

It was enough to get the ogre to look directly at him for a moment long enough for Snow to take her aim. The second arrow met its mark, piercing the monster's eye. Even before he toppled over, Emma felt his grasp on her midriff loosen. His balance vacillated for a moment and he stood, careening, before he fell entirely, taking his hand with him, and Emma, released from his grasp, dropped the long distance to the ground, where she landed with a sickening crunch.

* * *

**Up Next: As Emma reunites with her son, Snow and Charming ready the party to return home in order to get their wounded daughter the medical attention she needs. But with Hook locked up and unconscious, it is only trouble that awaits them on board the Jolly Roger.**


	21. Ambushed

Just moments too late to break her fall, Charming skidded to a halt on his knees beside his fallen daughter and gingerly flipped her over onto her back. She sputtered a hiss of pain, wheezing air back into her lungs and clutching her arm that hung loosely limp at her side. It would not lift. She had many long gashes that had appeared on her skin, as blood began to flow. Her mother dropped beside her as well, eyes fretfully concerned. Emma could only think that she should count her blessings. She was alive and conscious, and her son was rushing towards her with familiar love in his eyes.

"Mom!" he burst through the other two, Neal on his heels, and collided with his mother, diving into her arms. She winced and cringed as the pain within her doubled, but it did not reach high enough to wipe the smile from her face.

"You remember," she whispered breathily, patting her son's head and squeezing him tightly. She never wanted to let go again.

"You pushed me out of the way," he sobbed, "I was so confused, I didn't understand why you would do that, I hardly knew you, and then something just clicked and I remembered everything." He buried himself still deeper in her arms. "I'm so sorry I drank the potion, I'm so sorry I forgot you. I just… I missed you so much and I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"I know kid, I know," she said. "But you don't have to worry about that. Ever. Wherever you are, whatever craziness you get yourself into, I will always find you." She would have rolled her eyes at the cheesiness of what she had just said if she weren't so beatific to have Henry back in her arms. "You know that, right?"

"I do now," he choked. He peeled off her but placed himself directly beside her, clutching her hand. She continued to wheeze, her breath coming short, pained spurts that concerned those that had gathered around her.

"What hurts?" Snow asked, her voice trembling.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, attempting to stand before she winced and pressed a hand to her side. Neal put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to sit back down while Snow lifted her shirt to investigate. She tried not to gasp at the purple contusion she saw there, spreading from what Snow knew was the injury Whale had patched up six months ago inside her.

"Oh, Emma," Snow whispered as Red and Charming came to look.

"Well, that can't be good," Red offered.

"Your surgery," Snow recounted for her. "Something internal has been torn or ripped."

"It's fine, it'll heal," Emma said, brushing it off as Neal examined her arm. "It's not the first time I've had injuries that have had to heal on their own. Foster families rarely come with health care."

"It's dislocated," he confirmed. He looked up and caught her eyes. "I have to pop it back in."

"You sure you remember how to do that?" she asked skeptically.

"I've done it before, haven't I?"

"Yes, but that was quite a while ago."

"I remember," he assured her. "Do you remember how much it's going to hurt?"

Their eyes locked for a moment, Emma trying to keep the fear at bay as she remembered. She'd gotten her jacket caught on a fence once during on of their heists, and Neal had had to pop it back into its socket when they eventually made it back to the car. It had hurt like nothing she had ever experienced before. He had kissed her to distract her, but she bit his lip when he finally did pop it back in, causing him to bleed as well. It was just one of a number of injuries they had helped each other heal during their time spent together. She's stitched him up more than once as well.

"Take Henry over there," Emma bid Charming meaningfully as Neal and Snow helped her shakily to her feet.

"I want to stay with you," Henry said, holding tighter to her mother's hand.

"Trust me kid, you don't want to watch. You might want to cover your ears, while you're at it. You might want to take that advice too," she said looking at Charming as he grimaced, wishing he could make all his daughter's injuries better. He had missed the simple scrapes and bruises and skinned knees, and was now diving straight into internal bleeding and dislocated bones. He wasn't exactly sure how to handle that. He took Henry by the shoulder and led him away through the trees with Red. Snow took his place beside her.

"You may want to follow them," Emma coaxed her.

"I'm staying right here," she said firmly, clasping her daughter's hand tightly and catching her eye. She smiled and squeezed her hand back.

"I'm going to count to four," he said. She looked up at him, a bit confused.

"Why four?" she asked.

Immediately he twisted and pulled. A loud crack ripped through the woods, followed by an even louder scream. Snow caught Emma as she stumbled from the pain, her face shades paler than it had been before, trying to calm her breathing.

"Because it's better not to see it coming," Neal answered. Emma glared at him, panting.

While Henry reunited scenically with his mother beside a tree as she rested, Snow pulled her husband aside, and Neal and Red along with him.

"We have to get her back," she said urgently. "She says it's nothing, but it's not nothing, and if we don't get her to Whale, it's just going to get worse."

Charming did not protest.

"You and Red run back to the camp and get the beans," he suggested. "Pack up anything else you think we might need. We head back today. I'll help Emma to the ship, and we'll meet you on board."

"What about Hook?" Red asked. The conversation's three other participants blinked up at her.

"Anyone here have a problem leaving Hook behind?" Neal asked, looking them all over. Snow and Charming did not protest, and Red rolled her eyes and agreed. Snow and Red scampered off while Neal and Charming returned to the where Emma sat, her back resting against a tree, Henry by her side.

"We need to get you down to the ship. Snow's just gone with Red to get the beans and anything else we'll need from our camp, and we will meet them on the boat. You ready to go home, kid?" he asked, ruffling Henry's hair gently.

"You have no idea," he jested. "It's not just you guys I was missing. Now that I have my memory back, I realize that for six months I've been jonesing for a cheeseburger. And ice cream!"

Charming squatted down to pick Emma up, but she pushed him away.

"I can certainly walk to the dock by myself," she insisted, using the trunk of the tree behind her to support her as she stood, but she hadn't taken more than three steps before she stumbled, grasping at her stomach. Charming caught her.

"Nice try," he said, scooping her into his arms. She sighed and reluctantly let him. She looked up in his face and was not surprised to see a smile sitting there as he looked down at her. She rolled her eyes.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" she asked as he began to walk down the slope, Neal taking Henry's hand and following.

"Yep," he confirmed smugly. "Not the 'you being hurt' part. But the 'holding you' part? Oh yeah, definitely."

Emma's breathing was still shallow and strained as they made their way towards the water, and Charming's sense of urgency heightened, though he tried to find a balance of moving with speed while keeping his strides steady so as to not further injury his daughter, who seemed at times to nod off in his arms from her injuries and the clear pain she was in.

By the time they boarded the ship, she was all but shuddering in pain. He lay her gently on top of a few of the boxes and moved to untie one of the lines.

"I want everything ready to set sail as soon as Snow and Red get here with the beans," he called to Neal.

"You mean, these?" asked an eerily familiar voice from the upper deck. Charming turned, drawing his sword, to see King George standing at the railing in front of the steering wheel, a small drawstring pouch hanging from two of his fingers. He dropped it lightly onto the railing, a satisfied expression on his face.

With appearance emerged at least a dozen soldiers who had been hidden about the deck. Some point their swords at Charming, while others beset Neal, who had drawn his own sword from its sheath. Emma had not even fully been able to sit up before one had jumped from behind the box on which her father had lain her and grabbed her around the neck.

* * *

**I don't really know what kind of a spoiler to give for the next chapter, just that the scene on the boat continues. We all love a good threatening, exposition-filled conversation at sword-point, don't we?**


	22. Power Corrupts

"Drop the weapons, or she dies," King George stated in a simple voice. The hand wrapped in Emma's hair wrenched her head back, exposing her throat while the man holding her brought a knife threateningly up to rest there. Everyone on board froze. Emma gasped for breath through her constricted airway, the pain swelling in her ribcage as she was forced to elongate her midriff where she knelt on the ship's planks.

Reluctantly, Charming dropped his sword, and Neal followed suit. A soldier collected the weapons and stepped to the side.

"First things first," King George started as he began to pace. "The boy leaves now."

All eyes turned to Henry who gulped, trembling behind his father's legs.

"You want him, you'll have to go through me," Neal growled aggressively, standing a bit taller though he was unarmed and beset by a number of soldiers with blades.

"Are you deaf?" King George asked laughing. "I said 'he leaves', not 'he's coming with me'. I promised his mother he would not get involved in this when she told me where I could find Emma, so get him off my ship."

"_She's_ my mother," Henry insisted fiercely, pointing at Emma. "And I'm not going anywhere until you let her go."

"So brave for someone so young," King George purred, his voice dangerously low as he narrowed his eyes at the boy. "But no, I don't think so. You have two choices. Either you turn around and step off this ship right now of your own accord, or I throw you off myself."

"Neal, take him down to the dock," Emma insisted at the threat, her voice constrained through the chokehold.

"Mom-!" Henry protested with a squeak.

"Henry, go with your father."

"No!" he refuted angrily, making to move towards her valiantly, but in an instant the surrounding blades bore down on him still further, and the guard holding Emma pulled her violently to her feet, digging the blade into her neck so that dark droplets erupted from the incision. Emma cringed and let out an involuntarily cry of pain with what breath she had left.

"I won't say it again," King George said threateningly as Neal pulled Henry away from the swords pointing at him.

"Take me," Charming offered, trying to distract attention from his grandson while at the same time attempting to free his daughter from the knife at her throat. "Leave her alone and take me instead."

"David," Emma choked in a warning voice, surprised at the strength of the fear she felt for her father as he made the offer.

"I don't want you," King George scoffed.

"Let her go and I'll give you whatever you want."

"You don't have anything I want," King George repeated. He looked down at Emma. "She does."

The tense deck hung with intrigue, and King George allowed it to simmer silently for a moment before continuing.

"I came across the most peculiar thing one evening while I was in Storybrooke," he recounted. "I saw this woman here reach into a cow and pull out its heart. Just like Regina did. How long have you kept her ability to use magic a secret? How long have you known?"

Henry's mouth dropped open where he stood behind his father. Emma cast him an apologetic look. She was hoping he'd never have to find out about her power. Charming looked at Emma, who seemed to be struggling to stay standing, her chin raised high to avoid the knife against it. This is exactly what he'd been afraid of ever since he found out his daughter possessed this gift, and especially when she had begun to ask Gold to help her hone it. Magic is power, and power corrupts. Power makes people do dangerous things in order to obtain it.

"No matter," King George continued with a wave of his hand as he slowly began to pace to one side of the deck. "I stole the hat from the dock not moments after you left. There was enough dust left in it to get it to spin again. See that world is so boring. No kings, no kingdoms, just small towns and reality television. I much prefer it here."

"You had no kingdom here by the end," Charming reminded him angrily.

King George reached the staircase from the upper deck and began to descend. There was something menacing in his smile and his confident gate.

"Yes, that's true. I often asked myself why that was. What was it that King Midas had and Regina had that I didn't? That allowed them to remain on their thrones while I was ousted from mine?"

King George reached the bottom of the staircase and stood towering over the blonde woman before him, still held about the neck by one of his soldiers.

"Magic," he answered, eyeing her greedily. Charming clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white, as he saw this man surveying his daughter like some object he could possess. "I'm taking back the kingdom you stole from me, and this time I'm playing the game just like everyone else. This time I'm going to have magic on my side. I'm going to have her."

King George reached out and grabbed Emma firmly by upper arm, stealing her away from the guard who held her and bringing her so that her face was close to his. He took a knife of his own out, positioning it against her stomach.

"She doesn't even know how to use her magic," Neal said desperately.

"There are ways of forcing people to learn," King George said quietly, as if only to Emma in front of him, his eyes hungry, devouring her. "If it's in her, then there is a way to force it out of her."

He turned his attention from her to the rest of the deck at large, dragging her in front of him, his knife still at her throat as he addressed them from over her shoulder, keeping her pressed very closely against him.

"Don't worry. If she cooperates, she will be treated nicely. She is, after all my granddaughter."

"She is no such thing," Charming spat, outraged. "You were never my father. Just because you stole my twin brother from my parents at birth, then blackmailed me into pretending to be a prince when he died doesn't make me your son."

"Well, if she's not family, then I suppose there's no reason to treat her nicely now, is there?" His face shown with a spiteful smile as he tossed Emma's injured body cruelly to the ground. She shuddered and coughed as she attempted to catch herself, blood spurting from her lips.

The deck burst into action as Charming lunged forward, taking advantage of the fact that Emma did not have a weapon at her throat to attempt whatever rescue he could, but he remained unarmed and surrounded by soldiers. He dealt a few of them some good blows before one was able to catch the back of his shoulder with his sword, slicing his flesh and felling him to his knees. Simultaneously, Henry had leapt forward, and the threatening swords that bore down on him caused his father to grab him back protectively until he all but swung him over the railing, despite his tiny protests, and gently lowered him to the dock below, out of harms way. No sooner had he done that was Neal himself forced to follow him, much less gently, over the edge by the advancing soldiers. On the other side of the deck, Charming reached up blearily to stem the flow of blood from the wound at his shoulder, two blades trained on him where he knelt, tilting his head as King George's shadow fell over him.

"Take her to the brig, and prepare to set sail," he commanded his soldiers before leaning over and addressing Charming directly. While he really only wanted Emma for her power, he had to admit that he was enjoying the double achievement of also causing such **anguish** to the man who had taken everything from him as Charming was forced to watch her daughter be battered around. "Take a good last look at your baby girl, shepherd," he bid him, as in the background Emma struggled weakly against the number of guards converging on her. "Because you won't be seeing her again."

He brought his knee up to meet his enemy's face, and Charming was thrown backwards off the deck and into the sea.


	23. Whatever It Takes

Henry stood sadly at the very end of the dock, watching the very last spec of the boat disappear into the orange sunset. Behind him, Snow was panicking.

"He WHAT?!" she seethed, trepidation gripping her. She and Red had come to forest's edge in time to see Neal and Henry forced at sword point onto the dock while on the other side of the ship she saw her husband tumble into the water as the boat pulled away, sails rising quickly and the brisk breeze tugging it along at a fast pace. She had reached the dock at a dead sprint as Neal hoisted drench and furious Charming from the water.

"We were ambushed as soon as we got on board," Neal explained as Charming brushed past his wife, unable to look and see is own panic reflected in her eyes, too angry and scared and helpless to say anything. "It was King George, he wanted Emma for her magic to help him build his kingdom again."

"Emma doesn't even know how to use her magic," Red said.

"He said he'd find a way of forcing it from her," Neal mumbled apologetically, hating that he had to be the messenger.

"Forcing it from her?" Snow whispered, pulling a hand to her mouth, her voice wracked with fear. Visions of her daughter in terrible pain, already injured, having her magic painfully drawn from her flooded her mind, and she struggled to remain standing as she wavered unsteadily.

"I don't understand," Red asked. "How did he even get back here?"

"He followed you guys through the hat after you left the dock," Neal explained. "He's been planning this ever since he saw Emma at her lessons with Gold back in Storybrooke."

"Regina helped him," Charming added, still too heated to stand still as he paced back and forth. "He said he made a deal with her, that's she'd deliver Emma to him if he promised to keep her and Henry out of any of his plans for her."

"We have to get her back," Snow said, tears brimming in her eyes as she tried to calm her breathing.

"But how?" Red asked. "We don't even know where he's taken her."

"I know who does," came Henry's voice, quiet and sad. The group paused their hectic conversation to all look over at him. He was still facing the direction the boat had disappeared at the end of the dock. He turned slowly to face them. "My mom. Regina. She helped him set this up. She knows."

"Oh, Henry," Snow cooed sympathetically, stepping towards him and wrapping her arms around him comfortingly.

"I hate to say it, but I don't think we can count on Regina to help us out with this," Charming said. "If she was part of planning it in the first place."

"She would if I asked her to," he said.

"Henry, you know we can't let you do that," Snow said.

"You said so yourself, we have to find her," Henry said, his voice grand and somber beyond its years. "We have to do whatever it takes. She would do whatever it takes to find me. She _did _do whatever it took. I should have had faith in her, I should have believed she would come for me, then none of this would have happened. Now, she needs to have faith in us, and we need to give her a reason to. We have to find her. We have to do whatever it takes."

* * *

Regina had only been given a half-second of relief when she saw her son's face, having been missing for the majority of the afternoon as evening waned, before her expression darkened by the company that followed him into the palace. His grandparents and their wolf pet, and his father. The only person missing was his mother.

"What's going on here?" Regain asked sharply. "What are all of you doing with my son?"

The pale brunette advanced upon her viciously, dealing her a loud smack across the face the echoed around the stone walls.

"Where's he taken her?" she asked violently as Regina held a hand up to her cheek.

"Snow," Charming soothed, stepping forward to hold her back.

"What are you talking about?" Regina asked.

"King George kidnapped my mom," Henry told her, confirming what she suspected when he walked in.

"You remember," she said bitterly.

"Took an ogre nearly pounding him to a pulp to ring the memories back into him," Charming recounted angrily, having difficulty not stepping forward and reacting as Snow had.

"What?" Regina asked, her voice raised in a panicked concern. "An ogre? Are you alright?" She reached out and pulled her son towards her, surveying him. "I told you not to go wondering about in the woods!"

"He wouldn't have run into any trouble at all if you hadn't made you deal with George and given up Emma's whereabouts," Neal said.

"What are you talking about?"

"He sent the ogre after them," Charming thundered, holding still tighter to his wife in his arms to stop himself from advancing on her himself with his rage. "Then, he ambushed our ship, nearly threw Henry into the sea."

Regina gaped at them for a moment.

"No," she said, disbelieving. "No, he said he'd keep him out of all this. He promised…"

"Well I guess when you put your trust in the promise of an evil man, you get what you pay for," Charming said.

"Where has he taken her?" Snow insisted, her voice rising. Those boys could make Regina regret what she did all they wanted, but it wouldn't help her get Emma back. She didn't give a damn about her remorse or redemption. She only gave a damn about one thing right now: finding her daughter.

"I have no idea," Regina said.

"You're going to help us find her."

"Why would I do that?"

"For him," Snow said simply, nodding towards Henry. He looked up at her with his big, sad, disappointed, heartbroken eyes. And she knew that of course she would help. Even before Snow continued her argument. "King George broke his promise once, and he'll do it again. Only if he finds a way to force magic from Emma, then he'll have magic on his side too. If he can control his magic, Henry will never be safe. None of us will be safe. We need to stop him."

Regina sighed at the logic, resigning herself to the role she must now play for the sake of her son.

"I'm not lying," Regina said. "I don't know where he's taken her."

"But you can find out, can't you," Snow said, narrowing her eyes. Regina held her glare for a moment.

"Henry, go to your room," she commanded, not breaking eye contact with her step-daughter.

"You've got some nerve ordering him around," Neal growled, but a meaningful glace from Regina prodded Snow to step in.

"No, she's right," Snow said. The room stared at her, perplexed. She turned to Henry and squatted down to look him in the eye, taking his hand in hers. "If we're going to find Emma, we need to discuss some things with Regina. Adult things," she emphasized. "And for that. You can't be here, alright?"

"But I want to help," Henry protested.

"I know you do," Snow sighed sympathetically, "but I need you to do this for me. Just for now. I need you to do it for Emma. You said so yourself, we have to do whatever it takes."

Henry nodded dejectedly. Red took his hand gently and led him from the room. The adults watched him go in silence before resume their conversation. Regina turned to Snow.

"Thank you," she said reluctantly.

"I didn't do it for you," she snarled defensively. "I did it because I don't want him to see what you're about to show us."

"Are you sure you want to see it?" Regina asked, uncharacteristically thoughtfully. "I don't know what George's plan is, so I don't know what to expect, but it's bound to be gruesome."

"Just get on with it," Snow ushered darkly. Regina frowned at the trio frowning back at her, then sighed and turned to her mirror.

"Show me Emma," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

* * *

**I know this story has gotten a bit dark. It's just one thing after another after another. When I found out there was going to be such a long hiatus, I decided to make this story longer to wait out the time for my own amusement. I've kind of just been throwing things in as they come up to me, but now I've planned to the end this time, so this is the final obstacle. It's just a pretty big obstacle.**

**Next up: we find out exactly how King George intends to use Emma. Also some Captain Swan feels.**


	24. Forcibly Taken

Emma felt herself roughly forced into a chair as her wrists were bound to its arms beside her. She winced as the dull pain in her gut flared, but she was grateful no one could see this sign of weakness for the dark back that had been pulled over her face. When she was secured to the chair, it was removed.

King George stood before her, decked in lavish, kingly clothes that belonged to this world. Emma vaguely recognized him as the defensive attorney from Storybrooke – Spencer, was it? She had had very little interaction with him, but all of it had made her slightly uncomfortable. Especially when he had been questioning Mary Margaret about Kathryn's supposed murder before she showed up again behind the diner. She tried to focus on what had been said about his identity here on the deck of the boat. He had called her his granddaughter, but Charming had denied being his son. He had been a king, but had been undermined by her parents. Honestly, she had only half been listening, but a knife at her throat and painful injuries tearing at her insides as she struggled to stand.

She blinked her surroundings into focus, trying to sit as straight as possible given the internal injuries she sported and the bonds fastening her wrists to the arms of the chair in which she sat. The room was large and dark. Many tall windows lined the walls, but all were closed by deep red drapes. Between each shimmered two candles fastened to the wall in small lamps.

"You must forgive me for my poor manners," he said pleasantly, nodding at the ropes that held her in place. "I can't risk letting you slip away. You're far to valuable."

Emma was used to be spoken too as if she were an object. It happened all the time when she was growing up. She was a commodity, worth something to each of her families only so long as the cost of keeping her didn't rise above the support check she came with. As the stitch in her side flared, her wounded arm aching in its socket, she settled for brevity.

"What do you want?"

"I want to know the exact nature of the powers you possess," he said, standing back a bit farther and surveying her as a whole.

"I have absolutely no idea," Emma said. "You kidnapped the wrong girl."

"Don't lie to me, Ms. Swan," George chided coolly. "I saw what you were practicing back in Storybrooke. Saw what you are capable of. Now, we can do this one of two ways. Either you can choose to cooperate and use your magic to help me, or I can take from you by force. Rest assured, the latter is not a pleasant experience."

Emma eyed him warily, a fearful curiosity forming from his words.

"Allow me to explain," he offered, stepping towards her. From within the folds of his robe, he revealed a short knife. The same knife he had pressed first against her rib cage and then against her throat on the boat, before his soldiers had taken her below deck. Emma watched it carefully, trying to remain defiant. "Magic is contained in a person's blood. It flows through your veins. If you will not use your powers to help me, I can simply take your blood myself."

As he place the blade against the skin on her forearm, she involuntarily squirmed, stretching her wrists against the shackles that held her arms to the chair in which she sat. He left it there, stationary for a moment, before piercing the skin. He drew a long, smooth line down her forearm. She hissed and clenched her teeth, trying to avoid giving him the satisfaction of knowing the pain it caused her as a line of deep red blood followed from the groove the knife left. As he pocketed the knife, she breathed heavily, trying to block out the pain.

"All I have to do is put it in here," he said, tapping something resting on his chest. Emma saw some kind of amulet dangling from a chain there. He took it from around his neck and unstoppered the top of it. He brought it to the wound in her arm he had created and, none to gently, squeezed, causing the thick blood to trickle into it. This time, Emma could not help the small outcry that left her mouth, though she tried to reign it back in, biting her lip against the pain. When the small container was filled to the brim, he replaced the cap and swung the charm back around his neck.

"Now, I can use your powers myself," he explained, his voice almost cheerful. "But see, all magic comes with a price. And for magic forcibly taken, the price is doubled. Any magic I perform with your blood costs you double the energy than if you were performing it yourself. Let me demonstrate."

King George sparked a ball of flame in his hand. Emma felt her mind go numb, and her body's aching begin to double. She felt as if something were being drawn painfully from her. Her breathing grew heavier as she felt her lungs tighten, refusing to absorb air. As King George watched her reaction, he began to bound the flaming ball from one palm to the other. This simple movement made Emma scream as the pain intensified. He smiled as he brought the ball to rest between his two palms, then squashed it until it was nothing.

With the flame extinguished, Emma felt the sensation that had wracked her body with its ignition subside, though she continued to ache and heave air into her lungs unsteadily.

"You feel it, don't you?" King George purred. "You feel the energy it drains from you to have me using your magic. It would be much easier if you would just cooperate and use it yourself."

"I told you, I don't know how," Emma panted. "I only had Gold teach me one thing."

"Shame," King George said, clicking his tongue. "It would be so much easier for you if you did."

George raised both his hands out to his sides menacingly. The candles on the wall all began to flicker, their flames growing. For Emma, the pain of the effort, sustained by her blood around his neck, was unbearable. She could not even hope to stifle the extended scream of agony as it wracked her body, the flames throughout the room magically expanding and dancing, filling the room with heat. Her body writhed against its bonds, her airways constricted, pain seeming to shoot through each of her veins.

George released the spell and the flames returned to their normal fervor. Emma slumped in her chair, panting and trying to keep her eyes open. Blearily, she saw King George crouch, placing his face directly in front of hers, far too close for comfort.

"So if I were you, I'd learn fast."

* * *

Hook sat scratching two rocks together violently, his back up against the rough, cave wall of his dungeon cell. He had woken in his own ship's brig, those standing guard over him refusing to answer his demands for information on the situation. He had heard the commotion on deck, or more felt the violence of many footsteps echoing through the wood down into the vessel's hull, but only when they had dragged down Emma's limp form and tossed it unceremoniously into another of the ship's cells did he become aware of the gravity of the situation.

"Swan!" he had tried, coming up to the bars of his cell as he watched them bring her in. She looked beaten and broken. He caught sight of a few large gashes on her skin, and a sickening, sallow bruise as the hem of her shirt slid above her midriff in the shuffle. What had happened on deck?

Emma had slipped out of consciousness, no doubt due to some blow dealt by one of the guards. It was only after he felt the boat begin to move at a speed that could only mean they had set sail that the clear culprit of this incursion came below deck to view his prize. Hook did not recognize him, but his ornate and lavish clothing, as compared to the armor of the soldiers he'd seen before, tagged him as the mastermind of this shenanigan. He placed himself in front of Emma's cell and stared down at her unconscious form, a dangerous longing in his eyes.

"What did you do to her?" Hook had growled, each hand gripping one of the bars at his face.

"Nothing compared to what I will do if she refuses to cooperate," George said simply, his tone low and intimidating.

Eventually, he felt the ship dock yet again, and a number of guards came for both him and Emma. Finally, as they began to jostle onto her unsteady feet, her eyes fluttered open.

"Emma," he had breathed desperately, wrestling with his own band of guards as they invaded his cell and fettered his hands.

"Hook?" she whispered blearily, her face dangerously pale as they bestially dragged her to her feet, binding her hands as well. It was all the time they had to mutter to each other before Hook watched a dark sac pulled over her face seconds before his sight was snuffed out by one of his own.

Once he was tossed into his new cell, now on solid land, it hadn't taken him long to cut the ropes around his wrists with a stone he found on the floor. He was alone in the dark for some time before he heard a ruckus at the end of the room as someone swung open a heavy door. Two guards dragged the small blonde between them, her feet stumbling on the uneven rocky floor. He stood as the instinct to rush to her pulsed through him.

"Hey!" Hook exclaimed as they tossed the beleaguered woman into her cell with force enough to fell her to the floor. Emma lay crumpled where she fell and did not move immediately. Hook knelt at the adjoining bars "Emma?!" he whispered frantically, panicked by her pale, bruised skin and her shallow breathing. "Emma, stay with me, love."

Emma choked a breath and her eyes fluttered open at his insistence. With what seemed a huge effort, she rolled herself over onto her back, but it seemed all she could manage. She coughed and sputtered in the effort, a spurt of blood piercing her lips.

"You're getting worse," he hissed, grimacing.

"Yeah, well, torture doesn't usually do much to heal injuries," she stuttered in a pained attempt at humor.

"Why is he doing this?" Hook asked, trying to keep his voice from cracking for the fear that crept into his heart from her banal manner. "What does he want?"

"He wants the magic," Emma stammered, lacking the energy to even seem angry or frightened about it. But Hook was scared for her. Never had he seen her so worn and broken, heard her voice so small.

"You're bleeding," Hook commenting gingerly, eyeing her arm. The cut still bled, though she did not have the energy to even attempt stemming the flow.

"It's fine," she coughed.

"It's not fine," he pestered. "Come over here. Let me see it."

"In what light? It's pitch black down here."

"Let me see it," Hook insisted.

"You gonna bind my wounds again, Hook?" she breathed, her voice disconcertingly quiet. "Like you did atop that beanstalk?"

"Would you stop being stubborn and get your wounded butt over here?"

"There's the haughty pirate I remember," Emma said, half a smirk sliding onto her worn face. She reluctantly shimmied her way over to the bars their cells shared and extended her arm to him. It was easier than arguing.

"It's going to get infected," Hook inspected.

"As will the others, I'm sure," Emma sighed, her voice barely above a whisper, wincing. "The blood he took today isn't going to last him forever. He'll be back for more before long."

Hook was discouraged by the passivity with which Emma spoke. She was the kind of woman who fought to the death for the people she loved, for her own protection. It was in her blood. Blood that she was losing in dangerous amounts.

"I'm not just going to sit here and watch you rotting away as they torture you to death."

"Whatever happened to not caring, Hook?" Emma choked as her eyes fell closed, no smile for the joke reaching her tired face. "Don't get all soft on me now."

Hook could see that even this attempt at playful banter was wearing her out, so he let the matter slide and resigned himself to watching her shallow, shaky breathing as she began to slip in and out of consciousness in the cell beside him. Eventually he took her hand in his, and after a few moments, her subconscious grasped it back.

* * *

**Hello everyone, thanks for the supportive reviews for the last chapter. I'm mostly just writing this for my own amusement, but it's comforting to know that people are still reading and enjoying it :) Honestly, what were they thinking, a four week break? See what happens when they leave me to my own imagination?**

**In the next chapter, it's escape plan time. But whose side is Regina really on, anyway? Will she redeem herself, or does she have alternate plans up her sleeve?**


	25. Another Deal Struck

**Surprise! Two chapters in one day! Although don't get your hopes up too high - I don't exactly deliver on the spoiler at the end of the last installment. My excuse is below...**

* * *

Hook watched Emma bitterly through the bars of his cell where she lay curled up on the harsh, stone floor, shivering painfully as she dozed with her fever. In the dank, underground prison, he could not tell how many days had passed, but the guards had been back at least half a dozen times to transport Emma up to King George for him to extract more blood and continue to try and entice her to use her magic herself. Each time, she came back more and more drained, her skin paler and paler, either an old wound reopened and spilling blood or a new one marking her skin. The last two times, she had been completely unconscious upon her return.

But her weakened state when they brought her back was nothing compared to watching her writhe in palpable pain whenever King George used her magic above. She never knew when the sensation would hit, and for how long it would last. Sometimes it would wake her from her stupor suddenly with a jolt, lasting no more than a few moments but leaving a noticed mark on her well-being from which she never fully recovered. Sometimes, it would start slow and subtle, so that she thought maybe she could hide it from her inmate beside her, but more often than not it grew to a pain sharper and more unbearable than before, lasting longer and drawing shuddering whimpers from her as she tried to force herself to breathe through it. Trying to put on a brave face for Hook became a pipe dream.

He often tried to talk her through these episodes, hoping his voice could serve as a palliative for her to focus on and forget the pain. If she was close enough when the sensation hit, he would grab her hand and clutch it tightly in support, the grasp remaining long after the twitching had subsided. Sometimes, however, she was too far away, and slowly she had lost the strength even to move closer from wherever the guards had thrown her at the end of her last visit upstairs.

He hadn't slept in what felt like since he'd gotten here. Sometimes Emma was out of her cell long enough for him to doze off, but he was wrenched into their painful reality when she came back and could not gleam any semblance of rest with her shivering and sputtering beside him, in such clear pain as she slid in and out of her injured stupor, a feverish malady having been brought on by the infections from her unclean wounds.

In her absences, which had grown longer and longer in duration, he had scoured the cell for any semblance of an opportunity for escape. The bars, door and lock were unyielding, and the sentinels who brought their food equally immoveable. After a few attempts, he had stopped trying to wring any kind of help or kindness from them. Lack of sunlight and proper nourishment were taking their toll on him as well, and he felt his own energy draining, his will along with it. But her tortured form withering away next to him tickled his anxiety every waking hour, until the hopelessness of the situation threatened to consume him.

He heard the door wrench open down the aisle. He looked up as light cracked its way into the dungeon. He stood as he heard footsteps coming towards them. At least two pairs, maybe three. He looked down at Emma, who had shown no sign that she had heard the entrance, utterly concerned. They had only just brought her back a little while ago, completely unconscious and ghostly white. Hook had prodded her back to consciousness only to face her brutal fever and injuries as short, wheezing breaths rocked her skeletal form. If they carried on like this, she wasn't going to make it.

"You're going to kill her," he accused viciously, squinting at the silhouettes of those who entered as the light shined behind them, unable to make out their identities. Emma lay motionless on the ground of her cell, but Hook stepped towards the bars of his. He feared if they took her again in this state, she would not survive enough to come back to her cell. He feared if they took her now, he would not see her again.

There was no response, but as he watched the three figures approaching, he realized one of them looked very different. The form swaggered with an eerily familiar gate. As she advanced still closer he began to make out her features.

"Regina," Hook growled. While when they had last parted, he would not have considered her his biggest enemy or threat, after having spent the last days watching Emma deteriorate in a cell beside him, his anger for her rivaled that he held for the Imp.

Regina smiled slyly back at him. Emma stirred at the name, coughing as she attempted to sit up.

"Regina," she croaked, her hoarse voice surprised as she struggled to stand, bring up first one knee, the grasping the bars of her cell to pull herself upright. "Henry? Is he ok? Is he safe?"

"That's none of your concern," Regina purred maliciously.

"Why are you here?" Hook asked brusquely. He could sense that, whatever the reason, it wasn't good.

"I'm here for you, Hook," Regina said simply. "George and I have struck another little deal." She looked back to the two guards that had accompanied her. "Take him."

"What do you want with him?" Emma demanded, a coarse fear in her voice. Hook looked at her as the two guards came forward, opening the door to his cell.

"Again, that's none of your concern, Ms. Swan," she repeated as the guards grabbed Hook roughly and pinned him against the harsh rock wall at the back of his cell. He winced, the stones grazing his face, as they bound his hands behind his back. He looked at Emma, who had come up to their wall of shared bars, the effort of the movement itself causing her knees to buckle.

"Emma," he grunted. He wasn't quite sure why. Her eyes found his for a brief moment before the soldiers handling him wheeled him around again and forced him to his knees. Once he was secure, Regina stepped into the cell herself, towering over him.

"I am truly sorry to break up this little… whatever it is you two have going here," she said, her grin widening, casting an askance at Emma before returning her focus to the pirate.

"If you leave her here, she will die," Hook panted, looking up into her face hoping to see some kind of sympathy there. But there was nothing but hard malevolence.

"That's not really my problem, is it?" she asked, eyes cold as stone. She stood aside and nodded towards her guards, who forcefully shuffled Hook from his cell, dragging him down the hallway as he struggled feebly.

"Emma!" he called back after him, not even ashamed to seem weak or vulnerable.

"Don't hurt him," Emma croaked, voice raspy as her head spun dangerously. She sat back on her heels, mustering all her energy to not topple over.

"You can't just leave her here to die!" Hook was shouting, his voice waning as they dragged him from the room. A smile curled on her face as Emma looked up into her dark, unforgiving eyes.

"Of course I can," she whispered, words meant only for the woman in front of her. Emma didn't even have the energy to hate her as she finally succumbed to her feverish state and fell against the stone wall of her cell, Regina turning on her heel before her eyes and vanishing from sight.

* * *

**Ok, sorry, NEXT chapter will have rescue plan stuff in it. This was supposed to be the first part of that chapter, but it ended up being longer than I expected, so when I finished it, I figured I'd just throw it up here before I move on. It has a decent cliff-hangery ending, so it works just fine.**

**There will be some Charming family feels in the next chapter, or mostly Snow's (and a bit of Charming and Neal's) reaction as she watches her daughter struggle through Regina's enchanted mirror. Also, an interesting conversation between her and Regina that I didn't expect to write, but it just came out of me and I liked it, so there. Stay tuned!**


	26. Running Out of Time

"You couldn't have untied his hands on the ride over!" Hook overheard someone ask grumpily in a muffled voice through the bag over his head. He thought the voice sounded vaguely familiar.

"I needed to make the whole thing convincing, didn't I?" a female voice retorted. Hook definitely recognized Regina, despite that she too was muffled. "What if George had spies in the woods following me?"

Hook tensed as he heard the two coming closer and closer. Then the bag was pulled from over his head. Blinking down at him were two faces he was genuinely stunned to see, and more surprised to feel such happiness at seeing: Neal and Charming.

"Wha-?" he blubbered, utterly confused as Charming sliced through the ropes around his wrists with a knife.

"Welcome back, pirate," Neal smirked as Hook rubbed his wrists. He blinked around. He found himself in a large room in a chair beside a large roundtable. Spread on the table were a number of maps and charts. He spotted Red on the other side, leaning over some of the documents, reading intently, and Henry sitting in a chair too big for him, watching, him closely. Then he spotted Regina standing beside him.

"You're welcome," she spat at him.

"You!" he growled, shooting from his seat and advancing on her, his hook raised. "You just left her there to die…"

With a flick of her wrist, Hook found himself pinned against the wall by an invisible hand at his throat.

"Regina," Charming interjected in a warning tone.

"I'm trying to help save her," Regina hissed, something dangerous sparking in her eye as Hook gasped for air.

"Mom, stop!" Henry's small voice rang through, the voice of reason. Regina held her spell for a moment longer before allowing Hook to drop to the floor, sputtering air back into his lungs.

"I couldn't just go in and bring her out, I'd be dead before I reached the doorway," Regina explained sourly. "I came to get you as an excuse to survey the castle and enchantments projecting you, and so that you can help us to break her out with your knowledge of the dungeons."

"We're trying to find someway to break her out, but we'll need your help since you've been in there," Neal explained.

"How did you even know I was there with her in the first place?" Hook asked, flabbergasted. For a moment, the eyes of everyone in the room glanced uniformly towards the same door at the corner of the room. Hook turned to look.

"The answer is in there," Charming said cryptically, his voice low. He cast a quick look at Henry, who's attention had been subverted by Red. "Henry's not allowed to go in there. When you enter, you'll see why."

Hook's glance bounced from Charming to Regina to Neal, who nodded, watching him intently. He approached the door cautiously, wondering what he would find on the other side. As he pressed it open, he saw there was only one person in it. Snow sat, her legs folded beneath her, on the ground in the middle of the room, looking at herself in the mirror on the wall. When she turned to face him as he entered, he saw her eyes were moist and her nose red and puffy from crying.

"What are you doing?" Hook asked her, surprised at how gentle his voice sounded. He supposed those days in the dungeon nursing Emma had softened his edge.

"Come over here and see for yourself," she said, turning her attention back to the mirror. As Hook stepped closer, the door clicking shut behind him, what he saw in the mirror shifted. Instead of his own reflection, and Snow's beside him, he saw the woman he had just left, her blonde hair fanned out around her where she lay, huddled and shivering in her cell miles away.

"You've been watching her," Hook surmised, his voice quiet. He looked at Snow. "Watching us?"

Snow nodded.

"What have you seen?" Hook asked, his voice dry and husky as his ears burned.

"Not much that will help us break her out," Snow sniffed. "But we've seen enough."

She tilted her head to look at him then, and he deduced that to mean they, or at least she, had seen everything. He looked down at the floor, feeling slightly nauseous. But Snow's kind voice encouraged him to look back up into her blue eyes as she spoke.

"You won't get much thanks from them," she said sadly, nodding towards the door that led to the room where Charming and Neal were. "They're grateful, of course, but they're just too thick headed to admit it." Her eyes found their way back to his. "But thank you," she said, her voice just above a whisper as warm tears brimmed in her eyes. "Thank you for what you did for her in there."

Hook swallowed hard and attempted to say something, but nothing came out. Snow seemed not to need a response anyway. She turned her attention back to the mirror, where Emma had dissolved into a violent fit of coughing. Snow winced, but did not look away.

"How is she?" Hook asked, his voice low and vulnerable. Snow just shook her head.

"She's running out of time."

* * *

As the queen had announced Emma's name into her mirror, Emma's face had appeared looking worn, beaten and defiant. Snow had gasped to see her, and in such a state. At first they could only see her, bound at the wrists to the chair in which she sat, but soon the shadow of someone else in the room had swept across the mirror, Emma's eyes following it, and moments later they could make out King George towering over their daughter.

Charming had taken his wife's hand, tightly applying the pressure of his fear into her palm. Her face flushed red in fury as she made to step forward, a protective maternal instinct shooting through her. She stopped herself in despair. This was just a glimpse of what was happening miles away. She could not do anything to comfort her daughter, or shield her from the man standing over her.

George took out a knife. Snow took in an acute breath, Charming squeezing her hand still tighter.

"What's he doing?" Neal asked shakily, his face pale.

"I really don't know," Regina said, narrowing her eyes as she watched.

Snow watched as George sliced her daughter's arm, watched as she struggled against the ropes and the pain. Even before she had known her true identity, Mary Margaret had lived with Emma for almost a year. She knew her expressions. She knew when she was trying to hold back real pain, and as she recognized the expression now, dark blood beginning to ooze from the wound in her arm, she just barely held back her hysterics.

But when he began to collect the blood from her, Emma could not hold her reaction back. The outcry that escaped her nearly melted Snow to a puddle. She pressed herself into her husband for lack of anything else to do, and felt him raise a shaking hand to cup the back of her head soothingly. Beside them, Neal's face showed pure horror, his fist clenched tightly, knuckles turning white. He wanted to look away and at the same time found he could not wrench his eyes from the terrible sight.

"He's using her magic," Regina whispered as they watched King George swing the vile he'd filled with her blood back around his neck.

Emma's small whimper before was nothing compared to the scream she elicited as the King pulled a ball of fire from thin air. It seemed to reach all the way from her lips down to the core of Snow's heart.

"What's happening?!" Charming said, trying to sound angry but the crack in his voice betrayed his true fear.

"He's using her magic," Regina repeated, still facing the mirror and watching the scene unfold. "Magic forcibly taken is extremely painful on the person it's stolen from when it is used."

Mercifully the flaming ball diminished and Emma's screams stopped, her ragged breathing continuing as sweat trickled down her exhausted face. But it was only for a moment before it sparked again, this time ten times stronger than the last. They saw the shadows of flames dancing all around the pair as Emma began to scream again in agony.

"Enough."

The word had come from Neal's lips, but they were all thinking it, and Regina, with a slow wave of her hand, dissolved the image in the mirror so that all that faced them again were their own pallid, furious faces in the glass.

"Could you tell where she is?" Neal asked. It had been such a while since he'd lived in this world, hundreds of years. His geography was not exactly up to par.

"A castle, clearly," Regina muttered, turning to them all.

"Which one?" Charming asked. "It can't be the one we took from him, that one was destroyed."

"No, it's another palace. The windows were completely shut with drapes. Of course, he knew it'd be vacant. It's former master is an entire world away." She caught Neal's eye. "Your father."

"The Dark Castle," Charming hissed knowingly as Neal blinked.

"My father had a castle?" he asked, surprised.

"You can't expect someone who can spin straw into gold to live in a cottage, now, can you?" Regina sneered.

It was not long before Snow was back in front of the mirror. She found the atrocities her mind concocted from just the small glimpse she had seen worse than the reality. Well perhaps not worse, but at least if she was watching her daughter, her imagination wouldn't get carried away. Although the reality was enough to be getting on with.

She had winced as Emma was thrown roughly into her dank cell, grinding her teeth and hugging her knees to her as she wished she could hug her daughter and friend. When Snow saw that Hook was imprisoned next to her, at first she was apprehensive. But it didn't take long to see how concerned he was for his inmate's health, how gently he spoke to her, how his worry grew as he watched her fading beside him.

Tears came in a constant, steady, silent stream down her cheeks as she watched, until she forgot what it was like to not be crying. Sometimes Charming or Neal would join her, but they could not watch for very long. Their red faced anger, pent up for lack of anything to do about it, drove them away in a hurry. Sometimes Snow wanted to go with them, but somehow she couldn't seem to wrench her glare from the devastating sights she saw in the mirror. She watched her breathing become shallower, more and more pained. She watched the bruises and cuts on her skin multiply.

"You should really get some sleep," Charming had attempted half heartedly as the moon began to rise in the night sky, hours after dusk, but Snow did not move and he didn't seem to expect her to.

"I want to be with her," she had sniffed. "I don't want to leave her alone. I mean, I know I'm not… I know I can't be… I know she can't feel that I'm watching over her right now…"

"Maybe she can," he had suggested kindly. She appreciated the gesture, despite the fact that it most likely wasn't true.

"I don't think I've ever felt so helpless," she said in a watery voice, leaning to rest her head on her husband's shoulder.

"I know," he agreed, wrapping his arm around her. She looked up into his face.

"How could we have failed her so utterly?" she asked, shame seeping into her voice.

"Sh," he cooed. "Don't think like that."

"I keep going over it again and again in my head. Everything we've done. Every decision we made since she was born. Every moment, and what could have been done differently. If there was ever any path that spared her the pain she's known her whole life. What else could we have done?"

"Nothing," Charming had assured her. "There's nothing else we could have done."

Snow had looked up as Emma was tossed back into her cell after another grueling session with King George, her emaciated body wracked with coughs.

"Somehow, that answer just makes me feel worse."

* * *

Hook wished his dim knowledge of the dungeons proved to be more helpful as he sat at the table, wracking his brain for any scraps of information he had left out.

"Is there any malleability in the construction of the cells?" Neal prodded.

"I checked them as thoroughly as I could," he said. "They wouldn't budge. They're built well, probably with magic. I could find no point of leverage to break them open. They can only be opened with the key."

"And the guards?" Charming continued. "How many of them were there, how well armed?"

"There were always at least two to take her to and from the cell. I don't know if there were more outside the dungeons."

"There were upwards of thirty manning the walls of the main gate when I entered," Regina added. "Perhaps the first step is figuring out how to get past those before we worry about the two outside the dungeon door."

"You said you have fifty men at your disposal here," Charming reminded her.

"Fifty men who will be slaughtered if they just charge the gate," Regina said, exasperated. "We'll be on the offense, which means they will have the higher ground, the watch towers to see us coming, the stone walls to hide behind while they shoot their own arrows down at us like sitting ducks. And say we do breech the gate, then what? There will be at least as many men waiting to attack us inside the castle, not to mention George and his new-found powers."

"Can't you just curse him to hell?" Neal asked, turning expectantly to Regina.

"Any magic I use he will deflect. He'll fight me with Emma's magic, and she'll be the one to pay the price. If I pick a fight with George, I'll only be waging a war on Emma. He can't know I'm involved until the last possible moment, or any magic I bring to the table will be completely useless. You're the thief, I don't see you suggesting any brilliant schemes to steal her back."

"I'm used to dodging security cameras and drowsy nighttime security guards, not legions of armed soldiers and magic," he retorted. "And to be perfectly honest, she was the one who did most of the planning and I followed along."

He shot an apologetic glance at Charming whose annoyance showed briefly but did not linger.

"Well, she won't be helping with the planning this time," Snow said, her arms folded, unable to sit. "If we wait much longer, we'll be stealing a corpse."

"Careful, Snow," Charming cautioned. "Remember, Henry."

They'd been trying to keep Henry out of the planning as much as possible for his own sake. He had not been allowed in the room with the mirror, although at this point he had guessed that somehow they were able to catch glimpses of his mother while in there. The fact that they refused to let him see her did nothing to brighten his spirits. His exclusion had been extremely frustrating on him, and while everyone seemed on the same page agreeing to keep him out of it, his frustration at being excluded made all of them very sad.

"Henry went to bed hours ago," Regina said, waving her hand absent-mindedly.

"No he didn't, he's listening at the door," Neal told them. The whole group looked up at him. He strode over to the door and wrenched it open. Sure enough, the small boy stood there, blinking up at them all.

"I told you to go to bed!" Regina said harshly, standing from where she sat.

"Don't yell at him!" Snow barked.

"Come on, kid, I'll walk you to your room," Charming offered in a kind, tired voice, pushing his chair back. At the door, he took a dejected Henry by the shoulder and led him down the hallway. Regina glanced at Neal curiously.

"How did you know he was there?"

Neal merely shrugged.

"He's her son," he said. "He's a lot like her. A lot like both of us. I just knew."

He held Regina's eye contact for a moment before return to the table and sitting down. She watched him go over her shoulder, remaining still, a certain grief in her features. Sometimes it seemed to hit her in the face, that Henry was not, and could never truly be, hers.

* * *

Snow had left the conversation not long after, as they began to argue in circles. It was late and they were getting nowhere. She left the room and started down the hallway to a room in which she had been sleeping, but eventually just found herself in front of the mirror again, begging it to show her her daughter. She did not know how long she watched her feverish wheezing before she felt someone enter the room behind her and sit next to her.

"Your oaf of a husband is still trying to plan a siege of the castle," Regina sighed discouragingly. "As if that could ever work. Are wartime tactics all he knows? This will need to be a heist, not a battle."

"He was the son of a shepherd, he was raised in the fields," Snow said, not rising to the humor Regina was suggesting with her tone. "He never needed to learn the intricacies of 'heisting'."

"Until you fell into his life," Regina said. "Then it was all about packing bags to slip away in the dead of night and finding secret lakes with magical powers…"

"What do you want, Regina?" Snow asked stiffly.

"Nothing," Regina started bitterly, rolling her eyes, but after a pause she changed her answer. "I want to see him smile again. Henry. I just – I honestly just want him to be happy."

Snow thought of so many vicious retorts that came to the tip of her tongue, but as she turned and saw Regina's anguish, the melted in her mouth. She did not feel sympathy for her. After the events of the last few months, she doubted she would ever be able to feel that. But she did feel perplexed at the genuine emotion she saw in that face.

"You made this bed, Regina," Snow said, though her voice was not accusatory. It was light, like a teacher talking to a pupil. "You know that, right?"

Regina blinked darkly.

"I'd probably be much more open to hearing it if it weren't coming from you mouth," she said with sour honesty. Snow shrugged.

"I can find someone else to say it," she said, not really paying Regina much attention.

"Of course I know," Regina said, admitting the censure she knew she deserved. "Of course I know this is all my fault. All of it. My entire life has just been trying to get back to a place of happiness, the only shred of happiness having been stolen from me long ago. But the harder I try to get back there, the farther from happiness I end up. It's not just a cycle you break."

"Happiness is an emotion, Regina," Snow said. "It's fleeting. Sometimes you feel happy, and sometimes you don't. Sometimes you won't feel happy, even though you know you should. And sometimes you'll feel happy, even if you think you shouldn't. It comes in waves – that the nature of an emotion. It's not an end in of itself, it's not a goal. It can't be. You've been happy. Not just once, but a number of times. I'm sure you can roll back through your memories raising Henry and fill a whole photo album with happy moments. And you've been sad sometimes too. You've been hurt or angry. Probably most of those memories involve me. And you'll be happy again, at some point. But it can't be the end goal, Regina. Happiness can't be what you're fighting for. You have to fight for something bigger. Something more stable than an emotion that comes and goes."

Regina sat silently, allowing Snow's words to seep into her, in spite of her instinct to block them out.

"What are you fighting for?" Regina asked, her throat dry and raw.

"Her," she said after taking a breath, her eyes on her daughter's face. "Everything I do, I do for her."

A long, deep silence stretched between the two women sitting side by side.

"You know I will always hate you, right?" she said finally. It was not an accusation, not a threat. There was even very little anger as she said it. It was almost a plea. A plea for some kind of understanding and recognition of the truth of the antagonism between them. Snow did not look at her at first. She blinked and considered the statement. Then she nodded.

"Yes," she replied. "And you know I will always hate you?"

She looked at Regina then, and after catching her eye, Regina also nodded.

"Can't that be enough?" Snow asked desperately. "Can we stop trying to prove it to each other now? Can't it be enough to just say it and live with it and move on?"

It was Regina's turn to consider for a moment.

"I suppose it can," she admitted, and it felt like such a relief to say it. She brought her attention back towards the mirror. "Still doesn't change the fact that the only plan we've got involves marching on an impenetrable castle with an army half the size of its defense."

"No," Snow teased with a scowl. Regina glanced at her questioningly, but her eyes did not waver from their view of her shivering daughter through the looking glass. "That's not the only plan we've got."

* * *

**Up next, some Snow/Emma feels as Snow surrenders herself to King George as a prisoner in order to be with her daughter. Is this part of the grand plan, or is Snow going off book from her motherly hormones?**


	27. Prisoners

King George sat in a brooding silence, fingering the precious vile in his hand. He brought it up to his line of sight. It was almost empty. Again.

He had not anticipated that Emma would be in such a poor state when he acquired her, nor that he would need to keep taking so much blood to use her magic. He brought his fingers troubledly to his temples. No, things had not gone to plan at all. She grew weaker and weaker every time he pulled her from her cell, and there was no hope of her learning to use her magic at this point. She was barely conscious half the time. He continued to extract blood from her because he needed it, but at the same time he knew that this was not a sustainable solution. If she died, he would be right back to where he started.

When the guards informed him of an intruder, he clasped the vile on the chain around his neck briefly before slipping it down the front of his shirt. He pulled the anxiety he felt from his face and adorned his expression with one of intimidating confidence as he bid them to bring her in. She entered peacefully enough, one guard on each of her arms for good measure.

"Well, well, this is a surprise," King George sneered. "It's wonderful to see you, Snow. I'll admit, I thought eventually you would try some kind of desperate attempt at rescuing your daughter, but I didn't think it would be something so simple or witless as just walking up to my front gate."

Snow did not deign to respond.

"Where's that prince of yours?" King George prodded.

"He doesn't know I'm here," Snow said. King George leaned forward, intrigued.

"And why are you here, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"I'm here because Emma's dying, and neither of us wants that to happen."

"Rest assured, your daughter is not…" George started, but Snow cut him off.

"Don't deny it. She's withering away feverishly in that cell, and you're doing nothing to stop it."

King George blinked at her, attempting not to let his admiration for her pluck and nerve show.

"How could you know that?" he asked, keeping a pleasant note in his tone.

"The queen's mirror," Snow responded simply.

"Regina." King George said the name like a curse under his breath. "I knew she'd betray me."

"She didn't," Snow said, shaking her head. "We stole the mirror from her palace while she was away. I tend to be pretty good at stealing things from Regina. I've had a lot of practice."

"If you've come here to plead for her release, you're wasting your time," George said heatedly.

"I'd never imagine you'd be so civil," Snow responded crudely. "My husband wanted to plan some kind of noble and valiant attack to win our daughter from your clutches. But I've been watching her, and he won't succeed. Not in time. Probably not at all. She's dying, and neither of us wants that. Let me go to her. Let me nurse her back to health. I'll be your prisoner as well. I'm her mother, I know I can convince her to cooperate, to use her magic for you. Because if she doesn't, you will just keep draining her until there isn't anything left to drain, and you'll be powerless, right back where you started. Only I won't have my daughter anymore. Let me convince her to help you."

"You're asking me to make you my prisoner?" King George clarified after a pause.

"Yes."

King George surveyed her for a moment, his face hard to read.

"Well it's not like I can have you scampering back to that husband of yours with information on this fortress anyways, so fine. Wish granted." He waved a hand at the guards beside her. "Take her below."

* * *

Emma did not open her eyes when she heard the gate creek open and shut again. Time had stopped for her, so she had no idea how long it had been since she'd last been dragged out for use, but it must be time again. She had no energy to help them transport her to the torture of upstairs, though she would not have used it if she did. However, she was surprised to find the hands she felt on her to be gentle and smooth and soft.

"Emma," came a voice, trying to restrain it's anxiety and sound soothing. A voice she recognized. Her eyes cracked open.

"Mom?" she croaked. Snow felt a few light tears slide their way down her cheeks at the title.

"Yes," she said, her lips quivering as she pushed a few stray hairs back from her daughter's bruised face. "Yes, it's me. I'm here." She pulled her into a cradled embrace.

"How did you get here?" Emma asked, attempting to sit up a little straighter before a sharp pain in her side caused to hiss and lean back against her mother.

"Don't move," she cautioned, trying to keep her voice steady and free of the fear she felt for the sake of her daughter. "It's alright, I've got you, it's going to be alright." They were empty words and she knew it but they came so easily to her to comfort her baby girl and friend in her arms.

"Why are you-?"

"I came here to be with you," Snow answered simply. The response seemed to rile Emma dangerously as she choked out her harried breath.

"No, you can't be here, you have to get out…" she began, but Snow placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

"It's already done," she said. "Now lie back, you're going to hurt yourself." Emma winced and shuddered. Snow placed a gentle hand to her abdomen and felt the swelling that had persisted there. She reached up and touched her clammy forehead, nearly retracted her had from the heat she felt there. "God, you're worse than I even imagined."

"I'm fine," she protested weakly, her eyes closed as she took a shaky breath. Then her eyes shot open and she looked pleading at her mother. "Henry. Have you seen him? Is he ok?"

"Henry's fine," Snow assured her, explaining as little as she needed. What her daughter clearly needed was rest, especially if she was going to be strong enough for her plan to work. She did not need the weight of the extraneous details. "He's safe."

A measurable weight seemed to lift from her daughter, although it just left her seeming smaller and frailer. She sank into her mother, and Snow received her, biting back the urge to sob that had formed in her throat. She began to stroke her hair as Emma wheezed breath shakily into her lungs. Eventually, without realizing it, she had begun to hum a soothing tune her mother had taught her.

"I thought you said you were a terrible singer," Emma stammered in an attempt a humor. Snow thought back blissfully to when she had playfully discussed all the inaccuracies of the Disney animated version of herself. A soft tear slid from the corner of her eye.

"Oh, hush up," Snow said kindly, pressing a gently kiss onto the top of her head before continuing her soft humming. The pair sat like that for a long while, every once in a while a pained cough piercing Emma's uneven breathing.

"Mary Margaret," Emma whispered in a dry voice. Snow tried not to be too disappointed at the renewed use of her old name on her daughter's lips.

"Mhmm?" she asked soothingly, reaching down and taking her hand.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you before," she stuttered, pausing to inhale a shaky breath. "About Henry, about sitting with him beside the pool. I shouldn't have…"

"Shh," Snow interrupted. She knew what was going through Emma's mind. That this might be her last chance to apologize before her inevitable death. She wanted to tell her to cut it out before she broke down in sobs.

"You were just trying to help," she choked persistently.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Snow assured her, blinking back tears and grateful that Emma's eyes remained closed so she could not see them. She needed to be strong for her.

Emma gave a small, involuntary hiccup and a light trickle of blood appeared on her parched, cracked lips. Snow pulled her daughter closer to her. Her whisper came out as a whimper, quiet enough to be meant just for herself as Emma slipped from consciousness again.

"We have to get you out of here."

* * *

Charming's eyes had not left the mirror since Snow's departure hours before, his stomach knotted in tight anxiety. When she finally showed up in the cell beside Emma, he didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. She had made it this far in the plan, but they still had a long way to go. He watched her speak gingerly with their daughter, helping her to sit a bit straighter and cradling her, despite that she was the same age.

At first, he had adamantly refused Snow's suggestion. He could barely handle one of the women he loved most in the world being held prisoner by a deranged lunatic. He couldn't bare the thought of both of them out of his reach and in that cell. But even he couldn't deny that it was the best plan they had, and as everyone else began to get on board, he realized he didn't really have much say in the matter. He knew when he married her that she would always do what she thought best, regardless, and to be honest, that was what he loved about her.

Except now, as that quality had landed her next to their daughter at the bottom of a dark dungeon. He allowed himself one long look at her lovely, heart-shaped face before he turned and returned to the plotting room.

"She's in," he said, trying to keep the discomfort, bordering on insanity, out of his voice and pull together a strong front. They would definitely need it. "We have to be ready to go as soon as she gives the signal."

"We're ready," Neal said as beside him Red began to roll up a number of maps and charts that had been spread out. As if on cue, Regina entered the room. She did have a knack for grand entrances, the long tales of her riding coat billowing behind her as her riding boots clacked on the stone floor.

"The horses are saddled and ready," she informed them, pulling leather gloves from her hands. "I left Hook in charge of rounding up all the men. He seems to like the authority. Now all we need is Snow's signal."

"I want to come," Henry piped up. He's said it numerous times since the plan had been concocted, both before and after Snow left, and each time it had been met with the same answer.

"Not a chance," his father said.

"It's too dangerous, Henry," Charming explained for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"She's _my _mother," he argued, his tone bordering on whiny.

"And she won't thank us for putting you in danger," Neal said. "Or you if you get yourself killed. You would be so grounded." But Henry did not rise to the attempt at humor.

"Everyone else gets to risk their lives for her, but I was the only one there for her when none of the rest of you were," he spat, a bitterness in his desperate speech that none of them had heard before. "You cursed her to a childhood alone in a strange land, you forgot about her for twenty-eight years, and you abandoned her when she needed you most."

He looked at Regina, Charming and Neal in turn as he spoke, and they all froze, blinking guiltily as his tirade continued.

"_I _was the one who went and found her. _I _brought her to Storybrooke. _I _reunited her with her family. I was there for her when no one else was. If anyone deserves the chance to help, it should be me."

He glared at them all defiantly, challenging them to deny anything he had said. They stood for a tense moment of silence because, of course, they couldn't. Everything he had said was entirely true. Slowly, Neal came forward, his shame plastered all over his face as he knelt before his son, looking up into his face.

"You're right, Henry," he said, his voice raw and dry as he looked his son squarely in the eyes. "We weren't there for her. _I _wasn't there for her, and I should have been. You were the one brave enough to give up everything for her. More than once. Now it's our turn to prove ourselves. We have to make up for it. Do you understand?"

Henry nodded solemnly, looking at his feet.

"Good," Neal said. "With that understanding in place, I think he should come with us."

"What?" Charming said, his jaw all but dropping.

"He's just a boy," Regina protested.

"He's twelve," Neal corrected, standing to face the others in the room. "I was twelve when I was asked to start fighting in the ogre wars."

"You were fourteen, actually," Henry reminded him. Neal grimaced down at him.

"Not helping your case, kid," he said. He looked up at the others. "Look, I'm not saying we should plop him on a horse and have him lead the charge. He should stay back in the woods until everything is over. But he has the right be there when we break her out, if all goes well. He's earned that much at least."

"And if all does not go well?" Regina suggested, raising a disapproving eyebrow.

"Then, Henry, you know how to run, right?" Neal said, looking down at his son. Henry nodded eagerly.

"Really fast," he assured him.

"Great," he said, smiling down at him and patting him on the shoulder. "Then why don't you run and get your things ready."

"Come on kid," Red suggested, eyeing the other adults in the room and sensing there would be more to this conversation, and she didn't not want to be around for it. "I'll help."

The two left the room. Immediately, Charming stepped forward.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice wavering between genuine curiosity and blatant, almost-angry disapproval.

"I'm thinking it will be better to have him where we can see him than miles away where we don't know what's happening," he started. "I'm thinking he's got a point that he deserves, more than any of us, to be there if he wants to. And," he looked up and caught Charming's eye as he continued, "I'm thinking Emma will have a much stronger drive to stay alive and fight her way out if she knows Henry's waiting for her when she does."

The truth of his last statement hung weightily around them.

"Emma would not approve," Regina said. It was not an argument against the idea, more a statement of fact.

"Well then, we better make sure she gets back all in one piece," Neal responded, "because I do love how her face gets all red and scrunchy when she tells me off."

* * *

If Snow had thought watching her daughter's agony through the looking glass had been difficult, she could not have imagined how much more unbearable it was to be at her side. It wasn't long after she had arrived and scooped Emma's cold, shivering body into her arms that the first attack began. Emma twitched, a strong sound catching in the back of her throat as she woke. She gasped for breath, and Snow felt her tense in her arms.

"Emma?" Snow had asked, fretfully concerned. She tried to answer through what was clearly immense pain, but was only able to choke out a few words.

"He's… using… upstairs…"

Snow pulled her daughter closer, utterly helpless. There was nothing worse than seeing her in pain and knowing there was nothing she could do to relieve it.

"It'll pass," Emma managed to say, and Snow's guilt doubled as her daughter, wracked with such an energy-draining sensation of pain, attempted to ease her mother's concern. Then she shuddered and a restrained cry of agony escaped her lips as she nearly toppled out of Snow's arms. Snow held her tighter, trying to take even breaths and pass them along to her. She couldn't say how long it lasted, but it felt like an eternity with her frail daughter trembling in her arms, attempting to stifle her screams as the waves of pain came stronger and stronger.

It wasn't long after it had ended, mercifully, that Snow heard the door at the end of the hallway creak open. Emma had slipped into a semi-conscious state following her episode, and while she didn't open her eyes at the sound, Snow felt her release a short breath of dread, as if even her subconscious knew what was coming. Snow was physically frightened, her breathing becoming harder and harder to control as the footsteps grew closer. This had been a part of the plan. A crucial part. King George needed to see Emma at least once since Snow's arrival if he was to continue to believe that Snow had come of her own accord, and not as a part of any large plot. But as the clanking footsteps echoed around the dungeon, she pulled her daughter tighter to her. She couldn't let her go up to the torture she knew was waiting above. She couldn't let it happen.

Of course, she didn't have a choice. The true vulnerability of her position hit her forcefully as the two guards wrenched Emma from her arms. A few feeble protests escaped her lips as they dragged her sagging form out of the cell and swung the door shut. Snow stood at the bars, panic overcoming her lungs.

"No… you can't… please," she was saying, but already the door to the dungeon closed and the light it offered was snuffed out. Snow, left alone in the dark, sank to the ground, trying to calm her breathing. Snow hoped her husband was watching as she reached with trembling hands as obviously as possible for the ring around her finger, swiveling it in a full circle, then once again for good measure.

* * *

Miles away, Charming faced the mirror as his wife fiddled with his mother's ring.

"That's the symbol," he said, his voice dark and determined. He turned to his comrades behind him. "Let's go."

* * *

**Wondering what the plan is and if it will succeed? Me too! Honestly, I'm literally thinking this up as I go, so please forgive if there are any discrepancies or parts that are a little hard to believe. I'm not a criminal mastermind by any means, so I have very little experience coming up with escape plans.**

**The end pretty much sets of the next chapter. It's execution time! I don't know if it will be in the next chapter, but somewhere down the line there will be some pretty BAMF horse-riding. I've been a bit disappointed with the lack of exciting horse-riding in this season on the show.**


	28. Diversions

**Sorry for the break! I've had some very exciting and kind of scary events going on in my life these past couple of days, so I was dealing with them, but it's nice to come back to this story as they are beginning to settle down.**

* * *

The guards standing outside the door the dungeon stirred as they heard a stifled cry from within. Someone was shouting at them, but they had been instructed not to respond. They had received word that the castle was at siege above, but their orders had been to stay at their post.

When the screaming persisted, one of them eyed the door warily, then reached for it.

"Don't rise to it," the second said, raising his hand in warning.

"What if something's really wrong?" he asked. As they glared at each other, they could make out a few of the words being shouted through the thick door.

"Guards!... Please!... Help, someone!"

The guard swung the door open immediately, his companion on his heels. When the made it to the cells the looked down upon the brunette kneeling with her hands wrapped around the blonde. The pair was covered in blood. Snow was screaming for her daughter to wake.

"What happened?" the guard asked loudly.

"She did it," Snow stammered, completely overwrought, her hands shaking as he daughter's blood flowed over them. "She did it to herself."

One of the guards fumbled with the key, wrenching the cell open.

"If she dies on our watch it will be our heads!" his companion whispered frantically behind him. Once the door was open, first guard crouched fretfully to examine the blonde. Her eyes were shut and there was red blood all over her clothing. She looked as if she was turning blue. Snow was swept roughly backwards onto her feet.

"It was too much pain, she couldn't take it," she cried, her breath ragged and torn. "I tried to stop her, I tried…"

The second guard crossed the threshold, nervous sweat pouring from his brow. The moment he as over, Snow's manner changed dramatically. Her wailing stopped as her face hardened and in an instant, before the guards could even register the change, she had disarmed the guard nearest her, taking his sword and knocking him unconscious with one strong, well-aimed blow. The first guard turned to find a blade at his throat, but before he could even register enough to reach for his own sword, the knee of the blonde below him jerked up and met its mark. He crumpled in pain as Snow dealt the blow that knocked him out, toppling over on top of Emma. She grunted with the weight, and Snow helped heave him off her and pull her to her feet. Emma caught her mother's eye.

"I didn't know you were such an actress," she panted.

"It's easy to act like a mother grieving when you know that if your plan fails, you most likely will be experiencing that grief for real," Snow explained.

When the two guards had returned with Emma's limp body and thrown it unceremoniously on the ground beside Snow before clanking the door shut, Snow had never known such fury. Perhaps it was a good thing she was unarmed, because had she had a sword or bow in her hand, those guards would have met their maker in an instant. But then, King George would have been on to their ruse. Instead she worked as quickly and gently as possible to regain her daughter's consciousness. She had given the signal, which meant time was of the essence. She needed to clue Emma in on their plan.

She had not told Emma right off the bat in case the torture King George was dealing her would cause her to spill the beans. Snow by all means had faith in her daughter's ability to keep secrets, but in all honesty part of why she decided to wait before informing her of their plot was that she was so shocked at her weak state when she arrived in the cell that she didn't want to burden her with anything other than allowing her to rest comfortably in her arms. But now, she could delay no longer. Emma had awoken to a painful coughing fit, but her feverish shivering had steadied slightly as Snow began to quietly describe to her what she would need to do.

When Snow felt the vibration of dozens of hooves through the stone walls of her cell, she knew the plan had been set in motion. Sometimes she surprised herself with how quickly she could revert back to that highly attuned vagrant who had lived on the run in the woods. The subtle sense came back so easily.

"They're here," she had whispered to her cellmate.

"How can you tell?" Emma hissed back, her consciousness a bit sharper after having been introduced to the plan for their escape. She knew her mother's escape depended on her own, and was all the more sure to succeed because of it.

"Can't you feel them?" she asked in a hushed tone. Emma froze and listened hard. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be feeling. But she trusted her mother to know.

"We don't have much time," Snow said, turning to her daughter. "We can't bring Regina's magic into the battle until you're out of the castle, or George will know it's all been a trick and come looking for you. They said they would stand siege to distract the soldiers as long as possible without shooting the first shot, but knowing your father, he's not particularly good at standing and _not _fighting. Are you ready?"

Emma nodded, her pale face set and determined. She reached for a rock and began to use it to reopen the wound that had just begun to heal. Snow winced.

"Is that really necessary?" she begged.

"It will make it more convincing," Emma shrugged, disregarding her mother's concern as the wound began to bleed freely. She swept some of it across her throat and down her clothing, then folded herself into position, pressing her eyes together tightly. Snow took in a deep breath and began to holler for the guard's attention.

"You sure no one will notice them missing?" Emma whispered as they tiptoed their way around their unconscious forms and out of the cell, locking the door behind them for good measure with the keys Snow had thought to unfastened from their belts.

"That was the point of the diversion upstairs," Snow breathed, heading for the door to the dungeon. "Draw everyone else away so that when we take care of these two there's no one to come asking questions. But if it's one thing I know, plans don't always go according to… well, plan."

She turned slightly to cast a glance at her daughter behind her only to realize Emma had not kept up the pace. After tripping along a few paces, she had stopped, leaning on the stone wall beside her with one hand as she wheezed. Snow returned to her, concerned.

"Do you think you can make it?"

Emma nodded, but just the slight movement seemed to nearly send her toppling over. Snow reached to support her, and with her added help, Emma continued.

"That was the other point of the diversion," Snow explained as they hobbled forward. "So that hopefully the castle will be pretty well cleared out as we try and find the back door Regina told me about."

Snow did not want to seem discouraging as she helped Emma limp out of the dungeon and swung the door shut, but she thought it all too likely they would never make it that far.

* * *

Outside, as Charming, Hook and the rest of the men rode towards the castle to display their fake siege, Regina and Neal peeled off from the group as planned and doubled back around the fortress. Regina knew of the back entrance from the several time she had visited the castle when it still belonged to Rumpelstiltskin. Perhaps not as grand as the main entrance, the door was large enough to be getting on with, once they were passed, the guards on the other side would be another matter. But as they approached the wooden door, they were thrown back without being able to even touch it. Regina held her hands up against the invisible barrier, sensing.

"He's used an enchantment on the door," she informed Neal. "If I use magic to break it, George will sense it, and know I'm helping you.

"Well then, I suppose we can't use the door, now, can we?" Neal mused, rubbing his chin cryptically with his hand. Regina cocked an eyebrow at him.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked skeptically, but even as she spoke Neal had jammed his toe into a foothold low on the wall, reaching up to grasp a wayward stone jutting out. "Are you serious?"

"Can't be a thief for years and not know how to scale a wall," he explained, his tongue sticking out between his lips as he concentrated, pulling himself still higher. Regina gaped at him. "I'll take care of whatever guards are left on the other side and open the door for you from there. Bring the horses around, we'll need to bolt as soon as they show up."

"If they show up," Regina mumbled, turning to grab the horses' bridles. "If the princess can hold up her end of the plan."

There was only one guard to best on the inside of the gate. Neal dropped down silently behind him and twisted his neck until he fell unconscious to the ground. Just as the body buckled, he heard a pleasantly familiar voice from behind him.

"See you haven't forgotten how to scale a wall," Emma scowled smarmily. Neal turned to find her, leaning slightly on her mother for support as they tripped their way from the castle through the yard towards the gate. His heart fluttered with relief as he ran to her.

"Emma," he breathed, scooping her into his arms. He didn't care if it was inappropriate. He didn't care if there was tension regarding the nature of their relationship between them. He was just so happy to see her alive. She grunted as he squeezed her, reminding him of her injuries so that he hastily released her. "Are you alright?"

"I've been better," she mocked, swaying so that he caught her as she seemed in danger of tumbling backwards. He eyed the blood drenching her clothing.

"What happened?" he gaped breathily.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Emma said, her drained voice failing to inspire confidence that she spoke the truth.

"Where are the others?" Snow demanded. She too look pale, the worse for ware for her short stint in George's dungeon.

"Regina's just outside the door with the horses," Neal said, absorbing Emma's extra weight from her so that Snow ran forward to unlatch the gate. For a moment, Emma did not have the breath to speak her skepticism, but as the gate swung forward and she saw the three large beasts standing beside her son's adoptive mother, she couldn't help herself.

"Which brilliant mastermind discounted the fact that I don't know how to ride a horse when they came up with this part of the plan?"

"It's like riding a bike," Regina scoffed with a scowl.

"A – no it's not. Bikes have wheels, not hooves and minds of their own. And B – I never learned how to ride a bike," Emma retorted.

"You're riding with me," Snow assured her as she reached for one of the bridles. "Now let's get going before the battle breaks out."

* * *

**Up next: Part A of the plan, operation get Emma out, has been a success. However, part B, operation make sure King George can't harm her or anyone again, has yet to be enacted. The escape plan continues!**

**Also, literally as I'm writing this I'm finding out about the Boston Marathon bombings. I'm from Boston, and my family still lives there. I don't know if they were planning on attending the marathon, but your thoughts and prayers for the people involved would be greatly appreciated :(**


	29. Any Time Now

**Again, I must apologize for the delay! No excuse, really, just that things have been influx in my life and the inspiration for continuing the story has been a bit fleeting. But don't worry, continue I will!**

* * *

The sight they met as they picked there way to the edge of the forest, remaining just beyond the line of trees so as to stay hidden from plain view, was not a welcome one. They heard the disconcerting metallic clanking of sword on sword even before the scene before the front gate of the castle came into view, and Snow had spurred her horse to a quicker trot as her anxiety rose. She felt Emma's clasp around her waste from behind her tighten and heard her hiccup a sharp breath, but she said nothing of the additional pain the increased pace was clearly causing her. As the trees disintegrated in front of them, opening onto a large meadow bathed in the afternoon sun, what they saw confirmed their fears that the battle had begun.

Wave after wave of arrows came shooting down at the forces Charming and Snow had gathered from Regina's men. On the ground, a large legion of soldiers was already marching forward from the gate, Charming and Hook on horses leading the charge to meet them. Already the battle had seen its first casualties as a few men littered the ground with arrows in their chests. It would have felt to Emma like she'd stepped into a movie if the distant sounds of pain and metal clanging weren't so real and terrifying.

"I'll do what I can," Neal offered brusquely, and without waiting for a response, he spurred his horse forward at a strong cantor, drawing his blade from his side. As Emma watched him handle the horse with ease, growing smaller the farther he rode into the distance, she marveled in her bleary mind at how the two of them could have been once so close as they were, and she had known none of this life he had lived before. If she weren't so completely worn through, bleeding both outside and in, she would have been impressed. Instead, she leaned wearily still further into her mother in front of her, her strength beginning to fail.

"I'm going too," Snow said stubbornly.

"You're what?" Regina barked.

"Here, you take Emma," Snow said, dismounting her horse and reaching up to pull her half-limp daughter down as well. Emma obeyed the pressure without thinking much. She was only half present. "You're the faster rider, anyway. Take her as fast asyou can to where Henry's waiting…"

"You brought Henry with you?" Emma mumbled, mustering all the disappointed concern she could as she choked out the words.

"You have his father to thank for that," Regina told her as from atop her horse she reached for Emma's arm and in an effort the three of them got her seated securely on the back of the queen's horse.

"As soon as you get her out of the range of the castle, then you can finish it. You can finish it, can't you?" she prodded skeptically, as she remounted her own horse.

"I can finish it," Regina told her with confidence blazing in her voice.

"But not until Emma is safely out of the way," Snow reminded her.

"Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to your precious daughter," Regina said, rolling her eyes.

Snow shot her a dangerous look before she dug her heels into the side of mare, which bayed and bolted forward. She continued to egg her on still fasted as she raced over the grasslands to her husband's side. While the king's men had driven a number of the queen's forces back, Charming had stood his ground until he was all but surrounded on all sides by a thick layer of soldiers going in for the attack. Snow's heartbeat quickened as she goaded her horse on still faster. She jumped the stream and readied herself in her saddle as she approached the fray, not bothering to slow down.

Her horse rode straight into the men around her husband at top speed. Some of them were quick enough to back out of the way. Still others found themselves trampled under her hooves. Snow paid them no mind. She only had thoughts for the blonde prince battling in the center.

"Charming!" she called out sharply and instinctively he reached up his hand and she caught it, swinging herself down to his side. She landed firmly with her feet wideset and grounded and faced the oncoming siege, her back pressed up against that of her husband.

With their true love at each other's back, for a moment the pair froze, absorbing energy and strength from one another. As they faced the circle of soldiers that beset them, they could not see each other, but they felt the power of each other's love and presence, and it meant all the difference. When the soldiers lunged forward to continue the attack, Snow and Charming sliced through them one by one with a venomous expertise, and an unbreakable power drawn from parental and romantic love that all but consumed them.

The soldiers fell one by one as the Charmings swiveled in a deadly circle, moving as one unit. Some on the edges began to fall back and falter in fear, but there were still plenty to be getting on with and Snow's energy was already drained to begin with. The burst of adrenaline at seeing that the fight had broken out, at seeing that her husband was in danger, could only last her so long. As she just barely dodged a blade coming her way so that it nicked her cheek before she dealt a lethal swipe to the sword's wielder, she found herself hissing impatiently:

"Anytime, now, Regina!"

* * *

It did not take long for Regina to pick her way along the border of the forest, just enough to keep hidden from sight. Emma barely noticed the ride in her stupor, though she did sense an extreme ease with Regina on the horse that she almost took for granted. If she had had the energy, she might have been more skeptical to be sitting astride a large beast with the woman who had tried to kill her multiple times and had taken her son from her, but she was too busy trying to maintain her consciousness to worry too much about that.

But it was not long before she heard a high pitched sound that, anywhere, anytime, would always send her heart racing and bring her back to her senses: the voice of her son.

"Mom!" he cried out, standing from where he sat with his back against a tree. He rushed to her as Regina halted the horse, dismounted, and helped to pull her off. She immediately buckled to her knees and wrapped him in her arms, cupping the back of his head with her hand as he squeezed her back.

"Henry," she breathed, not entirely able to keep her voice from cracking. "Thank God you're safe."

"What happened, are you ok?" he asked, his face wrought with concern as he pulled away and looked at her bloodied, bruised form, wincing. "You look hurt!"

But Emma just pulled him back into an embrace, so grateful to have him in her arms again.

"I'm fine kid, I'll be fine," she discarded. "God, I missed you." From over her shoulder, Henry blinked up at Regina as she returned from where she had tied her horse up.

"Thank you," Henry breathed, clinging so tightly to Emma she thought she might pass out. He was looking up at Regina. "Thank you for helping us. Thank you for saving her."

"It's not over yet," Regina mumbled bitterly as she turned to face the battle waging in front of them. Emma and Henry's glances mimicked hers, Emma pulling herself to her feet with a huge effort.

Snow continued to charge towards a discouraging scene in the distance. Emma saw arrows flying from the castle walls while large numbers of men continued to attack her family and friends. Neal had already made it to the fray and was slicing at everyone of the king's men he could get his hands on, while Snow was direct-lining towards her completely beset husband at top speed.

"Who taught her to ride a horse like that?" Emma mused blearily as she watched her mother vault the stream and charge towards the battle. She wasn't even aware she had spoken the question out loud until it was answered quietly from beside her.

"I did," Regina said, watching the pale brunette as she finally collided with the scene, swinging herself into the middle with her husband. Emma glanced up at her dark, brooding face. While she had been more than happy to think of Regina as the evil queen, she had somehow forgotten the fact that meant that she was Snow's step-mother. No version of the Snow White story she knew ever went into the back story of how the queen met Snow's father in the first place, or what their relationship was like while the princess was growing up. As she watched Regina watching Snow, she saw such a troubled and confused expression there as Regina remembered all those riding lessons. How much it had torn her apart to watch the girl who was the reason for her Daniel's death get such pleasure out of a pastime she herself enjoyed. A pastime that reminded her so much of him. The stable boy. She couldn't look at a horse without thinking of him, and it made every ride bittersweet. Snow had taken to horse-riding with Regina as her tutor, and on some level that pleased her. On another, it made her want to be physically ill. It was so very confusing.

Emma turned her attention back to the battle from where she stood hidden at the opening of the woods. If she had any strength in her body, she would have gone out and helped her parents battle, but as it was such was resigned to watch. It was all she could do to stand straight, and even that required heavy support from her twelve-year-old son at her side who didn't seem to want to ever let her go again. She winced as she watched her parents battling expertly with their back to each other as they kept wave after wave of advancing men at bay.

"You going to do something to help them?" Emma asked Regina, looking quizzically at her as she remembered what her mother had told her of the plan. "Because if so I think now would be a pretty good time."

"You'd think after what you've been through the past few days you'd have a little more respect for the kind of energy it takes to perform magic," Regina retorted, not looking at Emma as she continued to stare hard at the scene in front of her, but Emma could see her scowling at her insolence nonetheless. "Especially magic like this. Hold your horses, I'm working on it."

Now that Emma looked at her more carefully, she saw the signs of someone concentrating hard and felt a bit ashamed at her quip. She resigned herself to watching in silence as Regina seemed to grow more and more consumed with the effort the curse was costing her. Very suddenly, the clouds grew darker, nearly black. They began to weave and swirl as they drew the attention of those fighting in the distance to the utterly transformed sky. A few bright bolts of lightening struck from the new, angry clouds, followed by loud claps of thunder. The soldiers seemed to freeze in fear of what they didn't understand as the sudden change in weather intensified. Then from among the dark clouds sprouted a tornado, which extended quickly and met the ground. At that, some of them began to run.

The twister swirled its way around the battlefield, magically striking at all of King George's men while avoiding Charming, Snow, Neal, Hook and the others. It was over in a matter of minutes, the enemy completely wiped out and what was left of the Charming forces panting gratefully in their moment of relief. As Emma squinted, she saw her mother and father share a brief but passionate kiss before they turned and sped for the door to the castle, arms still drawn.

But even before the door was shut, Emma felt it. The searing pain she had become so familiar with, yet regardless of the frequency with which she felt it, the sudden shock it always came with was surprise enough. She let out an involuntary cry, her body wrenched back against the trunk of the tree behind her.

"Mom!" Henry cried concernedly, coming up beside her, "are you ok?"

"What's wrong?" Regina asked, turning sharply as well as the sound from Emma. She did not exude any kind of sympathy, but more an uncertain concern. "What is it?"

"It's him," Emma was able to choked out in a whisper.

"Who?" Regina asked taking a step forward, but before she could take another, a second voice answered. The rough voice of a man as King George appeared suddenly behind them, causing the queen to reel around in shock.

"Me."

* * *

**There are only two chapters left! Next up is the climax of the whole story. Will Regina be able to save Emma from King George if in battling him with magic she will only be waging a war on an already-depleted Emma? We shall see.**


	30. A Queen's Choice

Regina's magical intervention could not have come at a better time. When the clouds first started to darken and swirl, Snow was struggling, and failing to keep one particular soldier at bay, while she instinctively another approaching her other side. She was able to jerk her elbow up in time to smash him in the face, but she knew she could not keep up this level of ferocity. There were too many of them. But then she saw them begin to cower in fear even before she turned to see the black twister touch down and rampage throughout the battlefield. She pressed herself back against her husband, holding her breath and waiting for the battle to be over, her short hair blowing violently around her face. It actually had grown quite long, though not nearly as long as it had been when she had last lived in this land more permanently.

When the clouds and the swirling winds subsided, for a moment, Snow and Charming just stood back to back, frozen and panting, waiting in the post battle lull. Then, nearly simultaneously, they turned and reached for each other in a passionate kiss. Snow never wanted to let go, but she knew that time was of the essence. They broke apart and caught each other's eyes for one last moment before they turned towards the now unguarded gate to the castle, which Neal and Hook had already reached at top speed.

Charming charged through the door to the main throne room with his sword held out in front of him threateningly. It was empty, and as they continued to throw open doors and search the castle, there was no one to be found.

"He's not here!" Neal grumbled in frustration as search of yet another room proved futile.

"Where could he be?" Charming asked, running a hand through his hair and looking worriedly at his wife.

"I know where," came Hook's ominous voice from where he stood peering out one of the windows. Snow came up beside him and mimicked his glance far into the distance where the edge of the forest met the meadow. At first, she didn't know what he was looking at. Then she saw it. An unnatural flash of harsh blue light cracked from just beyond the tree line.

"No!" she nearly shrieked, her heart dropping as she put two and two together and realized what this meant. It meant that King George had left the castle. Had probably used what magic he had left from Emma's blood to teleport and avoid the battle after he surmised from Regina's magical aid that she had been helping them all along. The entire point of the battle had been to gain entry to the castle and take down the king, but now that they were inside, he was outside, laying siege to their weakened daughter on the horizon.

Hook strode immediately and pointedly from the room towards the front of the castle. Snow, her breath caught in her chest, could not move for a moment and as she saw a second magical flash from the woods. Neal and Charming had darted forward at her reaction, squinting out the window in the direction of the woods to see what had caused the commotion.

"No," Charming whispered, reaching out to touch his wife's shoulder comfortingly. Neal, white faced and terrified, fled the room in Hook's wake without a word or reaction. The royal couple followed him, their hearts in their throats as they vaulted onto their horses outside the front gate, hoping beyond hope that they wouldn't be too late.

* * *

Emma was on the ground, curled in a writhing ball. Henry knelt beside her, his face devastated as he held her hand for lack anything else to do.

"Stop!" he was shrieking as he watched his injured, bruised, bloodied mother bare the brunt of the magic King George was throwing at them. "Stop, please, stop!"

Sweat dripped down Regina's brow, her son's screams behind her tearing away at her heart as her fingers flexed in an attempt to keep George's supernatural attack at bay from the three of them. When she felt a pulse in the onslaught she attempted flicking a few fearsome spells of her own in his direction, hoping he would slip up, but he deflected each of them easily and quickly put her back on the defensive. A defensive that was slowly draining Emma of the little life she had left in her starved, beaten body.

She wrenched the force he wielded back and fell back panting as King George did the same, allowing for a brief interlude.

"You keep fighting me," George panted, a deranged smile on his face, "and she'll pay the price."

"Until that little vial around your neck is empty and you've used all the power you have up," Regina retorted, fire in her eyes. George's smile only widened.

"You really want to take that risk?" he said, eyes flashing down at Emma's wheezing body. "I bet she dies before I run out of blood in here." He tapped the amulet on the chain around his neck. "So the way I see it, you have two options. You can either fight back against what I'm about to throw at you next, and most likely kill Snow's precious Emma in the process, or you can take it yourself. The choice is up to you, I only hope you can decide before it's too late, because rest assured, it is coming."

Already the potential of the magic was balling in King George's hand. Regina turned to look behind her, where Snow and the rest of her party were already in pursuit, charging quickly up the field towards the scene. Her gaze swiveled to the blonde all but collapsed on the ground, barely holding onto her consciousness. Then her eyes fell on her son kneeling beside her. In his wide, terrified eyes she saw something she did not expect to see there – doubt. There was uncertainty in them as they darted from one of his mothers to the other. She marveled at it for a moment with the comforting realization that her son did in fact love her and did not want her to die over Emma. And that all she needed to do to earn that love was to act out of love for him in return. She turned her attention back to her attacker, her mind set.

"The choice is yours," he goaded, raising his hand and preparing to strike. Regina released her defenses, her decision made. With any luck, Snow and Charming would arrive in time and find some other way of subduing the king, and Henry would be able to grow up with the rest of his family, and finally be able to remember her as the hero she so wished he would see her to be. She closed her eyes, ready and waiting.

"No!" came Henry's small, cracked, fearless voice.

Then, a number of things happened in rapid succession. Henry's young, lithe form darted protectively in front of his adoptive mother, blocking her from King George's wrath. George had raised both his hands menacingly, a deadly force shooting forward from him. Emma's body involuntarily wrenched itself to its feet as Regina screamed in anguish, attempting but unable to pull Henry out of the way in time.

Then, a sharp, powerful pulse blew King George yards back, where he met a tree trunk with a sickening thud and crumpled to the ground. Henry stood trembling, his eyes pressed shut, confused that he was still alive, as Regina pulled him to her, thinking she'd already lost him before she blinked and realized King George was gone. In the next moment, their confusion was replaced by a devastated understanding as they turned in time to see Emma's body flop limply to the ground. From somewhere, she had pulled the strength and instinct to perform one final bit of magic, sending King George flying back and protect her son from his wrath. Involuntary as it had been, it had taken everything she had from her, and she lay completely motionless on the forest floor.

"No!" came Snow's hoarse, frightened scream as she pulled on her horse's reins and dismounted in the same movement, only seconds too late to catch her falling daughter. The rest of the party did likewise and they converged on her lifeless form in shock and disbelief.

"Mom!" Henry cried, darting out of his adoptive mother's arms to his birth mother's side as Regina only stared in shock. He knelt beside her head, shaking her shoulder vigorously.

"Swan!" Hook barked harshly, attempting to mask his fear with anger.

"What happened?" Charming asked, his eyes darting around to everyone, none of whom had an answer.

"He just appeared out of nowhere, and I tried to keep him at bay, but the effort would have killed her, he was using her magic. So I let me defenses down, and Henry… and she… I don't know, she…"

"Mom, wake up," Henry whimpered, tears dripping from the bridge of his nose. "Please. Please wake up."

"Emma, come on," Neal said, his rough voice cracking as he physically grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her with his powerful hands. "Don't do this to me. Not now, not after everything…"

Emma's head bobbled limply on her neck as he shook her until he stopped, hopeless. Her features remained entirely flaccid, devoid of any kind of expression. No pain, no relief, no nothing. No Emma left at all. Neal sat back on his heels, allowing the tears brimming in his eyes to spill forward as the realization wafted over them all. Emma's body sank back to the ground, still as stone. Snow could not control her sobs, burying her face in her husband's chest as Charming wrapped his arms around her, squeezing his grief into her as tears dripped from his own eyes. Hook stood and backed away from the body, his jaw hanging open.

"This can't…" he choked in denial, but the words only confirmed for him that it, in fact, could and did.

Regina stood paces back, unable to move. The last few moments had ripped her entire world apart. The decision to give up her life to save her arch-enemy's daughter. The bolt of panic that wrenched through her heart as Henry had darted in front of her. The overwhelming relief to realize he was unharmed, followed by the extremely unsettling and confusing emotions of realizing that his other mother had given her life for him and now lay, dead, on the leaves littering the forest floor.

Wasn't this everything she wanted? For Emma to be out of the picture, for Snow's happiness to be ruined, for Henry to completely and truly belong to her? As she looked at her son's devastated, disbelieving face as he leaned forward and began to sob into his mother's dead body, she decided no. No, this was not what she wanted at all. Not even close.

She swallowed hard, then stepped forward, sweeping Henry and the others back as she approached the body.

"What are you…?" Charming started, stepping forward threateningly, but Snow held him back. She knew that look in Regina's eye she'd seen it before a few times when Regina had attempted redemption at different points in her life. Regina paid the pair no mind, no did she look to where her son's father had grasped him firmly by the shoulder. She looked directly at the blonde woman lying dead in front of her and took a steadying breath.

Then, without a word, she plunged her hand into her chest, wrapped her fingers around the still heart inside and wrenched it out.

The entire party held their breath, half in outrage, half in anticipation, and entirely in confusion drowned by grief. The heart in Regina's hand did not glow. It was pastel and translucent and entirely still. Snow's face cringed in grief.

Regina closed her eyes as she closed her fist around the heart. She wasn't exactly sure what she was trying to do. She was following a small strand of instinct, hoping desperately it would yield some kind of result. She squeezed the heart ever-so slightly, feeling a warmth transfer from her hand to the organ. She could have sworn she felt it flare, but the effect did not take. Regina tried a second time, and then a third.

And then, the heart burst forth with a burning red glow and began to beat in her palm. Emma's body, dead moments before, inhaled a deep, sharp breath, her eyes shooting open. For a long moment, they simply stared unblinking at the leafy roof above her head has she gasped a few more shaky breaths, her lungs feeling air inside them once more. Then her eyes flicked down to her own heart, glowing outside her chest just inches from her face. She did not have the energy even to lift her body, so she just looked at it, then into Regina's eyes hovering above her.

"I don't know if this is going to work," Regina admitted in a whisper meant just for and the blonde woman lying below her. Emma swallowed hard and blinked. Regina hesitated for a moment of uncertainty.

Then, she pressed Emma's heart back into her chest. Emma absorbed it with a sharp, stifled cry, her body exploding in all kinds of pain before her mind, again, went black.

* * *

**The next chapter will be the final one, tying up all the loose ends (I hope). Just in time for us to begin our season finale episodes, about which I am extremely excited. Part of the reason I wanted to finish this up was so that, should the inspiration strike me, I am free to focus on a new fic throughout the summer based on where the finale leaves off, so if you are a fan of my writing style, plot development or characterization, feel free to stay tuned and check it out! But anyways, there is still one more chapter in this fic, so it's not over yet ;)**


	31. Epilogue

**First off, I must apologize. I realized that I kind of lost track of Red. I love her, which is why I had her tag along, she's one of my favorite characters, but I found I didn't know how to fit her in, and in the last three chapters I kind of even forgot I had brought her along. So sorry for the inconsistency! Maybe if they would do more with her on the actual show, I wouldn't have such an easy time forgetting about her! Honestly, she is one of my very favorites. And now she's not even going with them to Neverland. Not cool.**

* * *

"Have fun, kid," Emma called across her mother in the passenger seat out the open window of her bug as Henry slammed the door from the back seat. "I'll be back to pick you up later."

"Thanks!" he said, beaming at her and waving as he turned and darted towards the stables, where Regina stood waiting for him, clad in her riding clothes. She and Emma locked eyes for a moment, the brunette giving a curt, meaningful nod and Emma returning it. As Henry reached her, Emma saw her envelope her son in a warm embrace. She turned back to the steering wheel and put the car into drive.

"You know, you don't need to come with me everywhere I go," Emma told her mother beside her. "Whale said I'm in the clear weeks ago."

"I know," Snow said simply as she watched the scenery go by. She did not argue, neither did she imply that the pattern would stop any time soon. Emma just rolled her eyes. She supposed she understood. Even though she was grateful that she could safely trust Regina to be in Henry's life again, she still never liked to let him out of her sight after the events of the last few months.

Snow's phone buzzed in her lap. She picked it up and checked it.

"It's your father," she informed her. Emma couldn't help but smile every time she said that. "He's on his way back from the bean field with Anton and the dwarves right now with the new harvest. He wants us to meet him at Granny's. Probably to discuss the plans for the move some more."

Emma snorted a small, ironic laugh. Snow looked at her quizzically.

"What?" she prodded.

"Seems silly, is all," Emma mused as she flicked on her blinker. "We were already all the way over there, and we came all the way back just to pick up and go there again?"

"We needed to get you back, Emma," Snow reminded her. "Regina got your heart started again, but you were still in a very bad way. I don't know if you remember, but you had internal injuries, you were bleeding, running a fever…"

"I remember well enough," Emma assured her, all but wincing at the memories. The specifics were all very hazy, but the pain and fear were strong and very real. "I'm not complaining, I'm just… pointing out the irony, is all."

"I think I've had enough irony for one life time," Snow admitted.

"Or several," Emma agreed. The two laughed quietly at that, but the laughter dissolved into an uncomfortable, pensive silence. Snow peaked up at her daughter.

"It won't be like before," she assured. "The bean crop here is thriving and stable, and as soon as we're settled over there we'll plant another one. We can come and go as often as we want. If you or Henry are feeling homesick, you can just pop back over here for a little while. Already I know a number of people who are planning on staying – Red's leaving Granny to keep up the diner, and Whale is staying on at the hospital." Snow looked down at her hands and swallowed slowly. "And if you and Henry decide you want to stay…"

"Mary Margaret…" Emma started.

"… we would still be able to see each other as often as we liked," Snow continued, trying to mask the disappointment and present the possibility as a viable option.

"Not often enough," Emma reassured, and looked back up into her determined eyes as she said it. "I told you, I'm in. I'm nervous, but I'm in. My family means more to me than anything in this world or any other world. I won't be parted from you. Not ever again."

Emma took one hand off the steering wheel and grasped Snow's hand in hers. Snow squeezed back graciously.

"What about Neal?" she asked skeptically. She knew Henry's father was a touchy subject for her daughter, so she proceeded with caution. "Does he feel the same way?"

"I have no idea," Emma said, her voice flat to hide any kind of emotion that might have crept into her at the thought. "But like you said, Henry can come back any time. It definitely wouldn't be the easiest shared custody arrangement, but I don't imagine it would be the most complicated one ever conceived either."

Snow did not push the issue. She knew the dynamic between them had been tense and complicated ever since the group's return to Storybrooke. Sometimes it saddened her that her daughter had not experienced the kind of overriding true love she had found in Charming. That her walls had had to be built up so high.

* * *

With a beating heart back inside her rib cage, Emma had gladly succumbed to unconsciousness on the forest floor, and had woken sometime later a different world away, once again in a hospital bed. She felt the stiff plastic bracelet resting against her wrist and the soft pressure of the monitor clipped to her index finger as she groggily opened her eyes. She hurt absolutely everywhere. She blinked at the unnaturally white ceiling above her, then cast her glance around the room as the lines in her vision solidified.

Beside her, curled up and passed out in a chair, sat a welcome sight. Henry was practically snoring, his hand outstretched as if he had fallen asleep with her hand in his own. She reached towards it before she thought better of it. He looked exhausted. She didn't want to wake him.

"He never left your side," came a quiet voice from the doorway. Emma looked up to see her mother leaning in the doorway. She took a step into the room. "Not on the ship, not in the ambulance. We could barely pry him away when Whale had to take you into surgery."

She swallowed hard at the memories as she came up to her daughter's bed and sat at the end of it. The entire ordeal had been utter agony. The boat ride home with her unconscious and bleeding. Whale's gasped exclamation of 'What on earth happened!' when he arrived with the ambulance as the ship docked and saw the state Emma was in. Regina holding a hysterical Henry back as he attempted to follow her into the operating room, the hospital doors swinging shut in front of him until he collapsed sobbing into his mother's tight embrace.

Then the hours and hours of waiting. It felt like an eternity. No one spoke. No one moved. Charming held Snow's hand until she felt it was a part of her own body. Henry rested his head on his mother's shoulder, his eyes puffy and nose runny, unwilling to close his eyes for second.

Thirteen hours. That's how long it took, and when Whale emerged he looked about to keel over.

"Never have I ever dealt with anything of that magnitude," he told them. "She was falling apart. I'm surprised her heart held on as long as it did." The entire room flickered their grateful attention towards Regina for a moment. "But it did. She made it through. She's going to be alright."

Snow looked her daughter hungrily up and down from the edge of her bed, before meeting her eyes.

"You died," she squeaked.

"I know," Emma responded.

"Your heart stopped and you wouldn't move and I thought… and I couldn't…"

"I know," Emma told her again, grabbing her hand as Snow's breath became short and raspy. "I know the feeling. I remember."

She looked down at the sleeping Henry beside her, recalling what it was like when his heart stopped and Whale pronounced him dead and her world fell out from under her.

"He's been begging you to wake for hours," Snow said, swiping at the tear that persisted down her cheek. "He'd hate us for not waking him."

"Let him sleep," Emma said, her voice soft and loving as she looked at him. "He looks like he needs it. We'll have time." She looked up and caught her mother's eye. "We'll all have time."

* * *

Discussion of the big move sprouted before Emma had even left the hospital, and while at first the idea left an uncomfortable pit festering in her stomach, the more they discussed it, the more comfortable she became. With bean crops on both ends, it would be similar to moving just a flight away, to Denver or Seattle or Tallahassee. Some people had even decided to stay in this world, preferring it to the one they had left behind.

Emma had not spoken much to Hook since the events in the Enchanted Forest. He had been avoiding her, and she had let him, unsure what she would say anyway. She tried to stay away from the docks, but every once in a while found herself down by his ship, scanning it for any sign of him. Sometimes he was below deck, something he was above. When one day she walked by trailing Neal and Henry as they talked animatedly in front of her, she saw the sails partially hoisted. She took a deep breath and excused herself from her present company. Neal's eyes had darted uncertainly from her to the ship, then he smiled an understanding smile, nodding and pulling Henry farther up the dock to give her sometime. She climbed aboard and addressed Hook, who was busy at work.

"You're leaving," Emma said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.

"Very astute," Hook grimaced as he hoisted a heavy coil of rope into a pile at the rim of the deck. He would not look her in the eye. He busied himself distractedly, moving on to the next task. Emma watched him in silence, at first at a loss for words. "Don't tell me you're surprised. I'm a pirate, lass, to the core. I go where the wind beckons. I never stay anywhere for long."

"You weren't going to say goodbye," she accused hoarsely, her voice low and vulnerable.

"Why, so you could tell me I should stay?" He eyed her meaningfully and she looked away, out on the horizon. "Of course not. It would never work Emma. We both know that." He cast a glance down at Neal where he spoke with Henry on the bench at the marina, their backs to the ship, and smiled softly. "Go. Be with him. Have your family. Have your happy ending. You deserve it."

"You saved me," she choked. Why were the words so hard to form? Why were her thoughts all muddled by some dull, throbbing, blinding emotion bubbling from her gut? "If it weren't for you in that dungeon, I would have…"

She didn't finish her sentence. She could already see the very thought of it darken his face, so she let the matter slide. She supposed she just needed to express it to him. To have him hear it, how much he had given her.

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't merely returning the favor," Hook mumbled humbly, all snarky nuances abandoned in an uncharacteristic fit of raw, honest vulnerability. "You saved me the day we met. When you called my bluff and strapped me to that tree, and you've been saving me every day since. Saving me from myself."

His eyes pierced hers and she blinked back, a soft ball of emotion growing somewhere behind her eyes.

"But it's my turn now. To save myself. It's been hundreds of years, but it's never too late for a fresh start. You taught me that. So it's time for me to hoist my sails. Off for a new adventure. Who knows, maybe I'll find a new true love. One who doesn't have a kid with the guy who used to thwart me when he was an obnoxious adolescent. And you - you should get to go be with your true love, too."

"There's no true love, Hook," she told him wisely as she began to walk towards him. He was constantly enamored by how she could seem the purest thing in the world and at the same time the wisest. "Not here at least. There's only love. With all its imperfections and complications. And for some reason, I like that better. Maybe it's because I grew up here, and it's just what I'm used to. But there is something about the fight and the risk and the pain and the uncertainty and the sacrifice that seems to make it so much stronger. Weaker, but stronger at the same time. Yes, I love Neal."

He felt a sour taste in the back of his mouth as she said it so simply. But she did not look over at Neal at all as she advanced. She seemed to only have eyes for Hook. "On some level, I've always loved him. But he's not my true love. And neither are you. But that doesn't mean I don't love you, too."

She was upon him, her face inches from his as her eyes dipped down to his chest and then back up to his face. She let the words simmer, and he absorbed them, not one hundred percent sure he understood what they meant, but all to glad she had said them anyway. She leaned in and he felt his lips drawn to hers like a magnet. Slow and steady, but inevitable. Unavoidable. The first kiss had been seductive as all get out. The second had been raw and angry and frightened. But this one, this was something else entirely. It was slow, and it was real, and it was devastating as hell because they both knew it would be the last. Despite that, he let himself sink into it until for a split second he had convinced himself that it never had to end.

But then the lips left his and her face was before his once more, looking at him with those eyes he so easily lost himself in. And if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he was grateful for the closure.

"So, aren't you glad to stuck around long enough to say goodbye," she asked, a suggestive twinkle in her eye. He found all he could do was smile down at her.

"Aye," he said softly. She smiled back.

"Goodbye, Hook," she said with finality. He brought her hand up to his lips.

"Swan," he said, nodding and pressing his lips to her knuckles before allowing her hand to fall back to her side.

She blinked and smiled once more, and then she was gone, a wisp of golden hair swinging off the deck down onto the dock below. He listened to the sharp clack of her boots on the hollow wood below until he heard them no more, before he moved again, a small smile on his lips.

* * *

"So, you have magic," Henry started expectantly, blinking his eager, youthful eyes up at his mother from where he sat across the booth from her. She swallowed her scalding sip of coffee in a quick gulp and felt her throat blister. She paused for a moment, then gently placed the mug in it's saucer, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

"I wondered when we'd get to that," Emma sighed. She'd hoped that the matter would slide by in the wake of her abduction and almost death, but considering it played such a prominent role in the matters that had taken place in the Enchanted Forest, she had known that was too much to hope for. "Firstly, let me just say that I didn't lie."

"I know you didn't," Henry conceded to her. He did not look angry at all. More excited than anything. "I'll admit I was a little disappointed that you kept it a secret from me, but I understand why you did."

"I wanted to tell you," Emma admitted genuinely, reaching over and taking her son's hand in her own. "I just… didn't know how."

"I get it," Henry said, nodding with forgiveness in his bright eyes. "But now that the cat is out of the bag, I have one question for you."

"Shoot, kid," Emma allowed.

"Does this mean I have magic too?"

Emma felt a tenseness in her body at the question. She was dying to know herself, and terrified of the answer at the same time. She'd seen what magic had done to Gold, how it had torn him from his son. She'd seen what it had done to Cora, and what that in turn had done to Regina, Henry's own mother. All because of magic. In her heart of hearts, she hoped dearly that she had not passed the trait to her son. She didn't even want the burden herself. But looking into his bright blue eager eyes, she knew that he probably did have the same ability as her, especially if it ran in her blood. And she vowed to herself then and there that whatever the answer to that question, she would fight to the death not to do what Gold or Cora or Regina did. And she smiled at him because she knew that if there was one person in the world she didn't have to worry about being corrupted by magic, it was her son. It was just in his nature.

"I honestly don't know, kid," she told him truthfully. "But whatever the answer is, and whenever and however we find out, I do know one thing."

"What's that?" he asked.

"That we will get through it together."

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading! To be perfectly honest, I got quite sloppy at the end. But I truly enjoyed writing for you and getting all your feedback. Please leave final thoughts in the reviews! And hopefully I can keep up the pace and quality a bit better as I start something to amuse myself throughout the summer until season 3. Practice makes perfect!**


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